


We Overcome The Night

by Kunstpause



Series: Elastic Heart [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, F/M, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-11-27 10:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18193592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunstpause/pseuds/Kunstpause
Summary: “My dearest Vivienne, are you asking me to collect gossip for you?” Dorian put his full acting skills into the mockingly shocked expression on his face.“That you think this is about gossip when the fate of Thedas rests on the shoulders of our currently very on edge and sleep-deprived Inquisitor is almost adorable in its naivete.”





	1. What hides in plain sight

**Author's Note:**

> This is a complete rewrite of an older story of mine that I took down because I wasn't happy with it anymore.
> 
> A huge thank you to Elveny & Golli, for beta-ing everything, regularly getting me back to writing and also being the best overall. At everything. <3

“You know, they are looking for you,” Dorian’s voice came from behind her and almost startled Amara as she was leaning against the door leading towards the great hall. 

“I know,” she sighed. “But it is early and I don’t know if I can understand the complexities of Orlesian politics before I even had breakfast.” Her whole posture screamed exhaustion, and she was glad that it wasn’t Josephine who saw her in this state. The other woman had enough on her plate without worrying about someone else’s unhealthy habits.

“You look like you just took down another dragon after not sleeping for a month.” Dorian raised one eyebrow as he leaned on the balustrade next to her. “Are you alright?” He sounded concerned, and Amara felt herself shrink a bit. Did she really look that bad?

“I am fine, don’t worry. Just a long night.” She tried to wink at him but failed horribly when a yawn took over. “Just trying to avoid responsibilities before I’ve had food.”

He nodded at her sympathetically before he gestured to the door behind him. “In that case, might I suggest the other exit?” With a grateful nod Amara rushed past him.

“You know, if you need something to help you sleep you could probably ask Solas for help. He seems to have a lot of solutions for that,” Dorian suggested behind her, making her pause in her step.

“What?” Amara spluttered. “I don’t have trouble sleeping. I sleep fine!” She hoped silently that her tone didn’t sound overly defensive.

Dorian gave her a peculiar look that made her just a little bit too uncomfortable. “Of course not, my mistake,” he said very pointedly and his whole behaviour made it clear that he didn’t believe a single word. For a brief moment, Amara considered coming up with a better story but her tired brain came up empty. Without another look, she made for the door and fled the rather uncomfortable mood of the rotunda. Dorian kept staring at the door until he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

“Fascinating.” Vivienne’s voice was a mixture of curiosity and a slight sneer. “Our dear Inquisitor manages to stun you into silence, I see. What a remarkable feat!” The other mage was not a rare sight in the library. Their conversations were usually spiked with more or less thinly veiled insults that had lost the heat behind them many months ago, but today Dorian felt strangely off.

“She just lied to me,” he admitted in confusion. “We are friends, close friends I would even say and she just blatantly lied to my face.” Disbelief coloured his voice.  
Vivienne sighed, sounding almost dramatic as if it was a personal affront towards her that she had to explain this to him. “Of course she did. The dear girl is probably terribly embarrassed and doesn’t want you to think badly of her. I thought that was rather obvious?”

“That is ridiculous! Why should she be? She is under a lot of pressure, having trouble sleeping is nothing to be ashamed off,” he huffed. There was no way that this was the actual reason. Dorian was certain of it.

Vivienne only raised her eyebrows at him, waiting. When it became clear that he was waiting for her to give him a better reason she shook her head with a pointed look. “My dear, I doubt it is dreams that keep her from sleeping.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Then that is even less reason to be ashamed. She knows I don’t care. She could sleep her way through the entire Inquisition, and I would never judge her for that,” he stated with conviction. And he meant it. What someone else did in the privacy of their bedrooms was not his concern.

“Then you, my dear Dorian, are probably a very rare exception,” Vivienne remarked with a slight hint of respect in her voice. She agreed with him in theory, but she also knew that reality often was quite different.

“Do you two think it is very wise to gossip about the Inquisitor's nightly habits out here in the open, where everyone could overhear?” Both of them were startled by Varric’s voice for a second, then they exchanged an uncomfortable look. They couldn’t really disagree with him, even though there were not many people around the library this early in the morning.

“What are you even doing here, Varric?” Dorian asked.

“Looking for you, Sparkler, things to discuss,” the dwarf stated like this was an obvious everyday occurrence.

Vivienne smiled politely and gathered the books she had come for. “I will take my leave then and let you two do whatever you do.”

Before she could leave the library, though, Varric’s voice stopped her again. “You know, you are both wrong about her,” he stated.

“Excuse me?” Vivienne sounded like she tried to sound insulted, but her curiosity shone through far too prominently. Dorian just looked at him questioningly.

Varric glanced around to make sure there were no more bystanders around. “She doesn’t jump from bed to bed nearly as much as you think,” he stated. The other two were looking at him like they didn’t believe him at all.“Oh come on, can’t you see it? It is kind of obvious.”

Both mages just shook their heads. 

Varric pinched his nose as he continued. “You are really not as observant as you all think you are. She wants you to think those things about her. Meanwhile, she has never spent the entire night in someone else’s bed and if you ask the housekeepers, they will tell you that the Inquisitor has never once slept in her own room either.” He looked at them like he was waiting for something.

Dorian was the first who processed the new information. “Why does she do this? I mean, it makes no sense to me?” He looked at Vivienne who seemed as surprised as he was. “And where does she actually sleep?”

Varric shrugged. “Excellent questions. I asked the same thing but neither Leliana nor I have been able to figure it out yet. So your guess is as good as mine.”

“Perhaps you should ask Sera or the Iron Bull or some of the others she associates herself with more frequently,” Vivienne suggested. “She seems very close to some of them, they might know?”

Varric shook his head. “Our dear nightingale already tried, they said they don’t know.”

Dorian laughed loudly at this. “Of course they did. Have you met Sera? Do you honestly think she would give our spymaster or even Cullen or Cassandra an honest answer?”

“She is deeply troubled when it comes to authority,” Vivienne agreed, and Varric scoffed. “Well, that is one way of putting it.”

“I’ll ask them,” Dorian decided. “Either one of them might be much more open about this to me than to any of our dear leaders.”

This time it was Varric’s turn to laugh. “Maybe. But I can’t really see you spending your evening in the Herald’s Rest.”

Vivienne looked thoughtfully at Varric. “Be that as it may, Dorian is right - he might actually be the best person to ask.” She ignored Dorian’s shocked gasp. “Do tell us if you find out something useful, please,” she added with a pointed look at Dorian.

“My dearest Vivienne, are you asking me to collect gossip for you?” Dorian put his full acting skills into the mockingly shocked expression on his face.

“That you think this is about gossip when the fate of Thedas rests on the shoulders of our currently very on edge and sleep-deprived Inquisitor is almost adorable in its naivete.” She shook her head at him again before she left the library without even saying goodbye.

“You know,” Dorian mused to the dwarf beside him, “I almost think she actually cares.”

He was surprised when Varric slapped him on the back with a laugh. “You are only figuring that out now?”

~ . ~

That very evening, Dorian decided to go and find some answers. Curiosity aside, he had meant what he had said that morning. Amara was his friend, and he couldn’t help but worry about her. The moment he entered the tavern, though, he was starkly reminded why he usually spent his evenings elsewhere. He didn’t have to look around much to find who he was looking for.

“Dorian!” The Iron Bull roared through the entire tavern. “Join us!” He was surrounded by most of the Chargers, Scout Harding and Sera. The music was lively, and Dorian assumed that the drinks had been flowing for quite some time already. He made his way through the other patrons until he was at their table.

“Finally here to take me up on my offer?” Bull joked and did his terrible imitation of a wink that really lost all its meaning with only one eye. He seemed unconcerned by that, though.

“He must be, why else would he grace us here with his company?” Sera chimed in, her wink being much more pronounced.

Not for the first time Dorian was glad he had gotten used to the more brash and direct ways of both of them. “As tempting as this offer is, I actually need to talk to you.” He smiled his most winning smile as he addressed the Iron Bull. “It is about the Inquisitor."

Bull put his drink down and looked serious for a moment. “Hey, whatever you heard, it is just rumours! There had been nothing going on but heavy, almost filthy amounts of drinking that night, and she left on her own two feet!”

Sera nodded emphatically. “I can vouch for that!” She took another large swing of her drink.

“Actually, you can’t - you were passed out under that table over there,” came Harding’s voice from her left.

“Maybe,” Sera reluctantly agreed, “but I was there in spirit!” She snorted loudly, and for a moment, Dorian was afraid that there would be ale coming out of her nose. She elbowed Bull into the side, but Dorian strongly suspected that the Qunari didn’t even notice her tiny elbow. “Get it?” she giggled. “In spirit!”

Dorian couldn’t really help but laugh along. Her amusement over her own accidental pun was infectious. After the general laughter had subsided, Dorian focused his attention on the Iron Bull again. “It is a bit more serious than that. If you have a moment?”

Bull’s expression changed from amused and slightly drunk to very serious in an instant. “Of course.” When he stood up everyone moved out of his way instinctively. “Coming through,” he shouted playfully. A few chairs were shuffled over the floor as the rest of the group went back to the drinking game Dorian had unknowingly interrupted.

“Where to?” Bull asked when he had reached the Tevinter. Dorian was glad that he obviously understood this to be a private matter.

“Somewhere we won’t be overheard preferably. The Battlements?” he suggested. Bull only nodded and made his way out of the crowded place. Dorian followed him quickly. For each of Bull’s strides, he had to do at least two steps to keep up. He briefly wondered if that would look comical to people watching just before he decided that he really didn’t care. They didn’t talk while walking - not until they had reached their destination. Right in front of one of the unused towers on the battlements, they stopped.

“Alright,” Bull wasted no time. “Out with it, what’s the matter with her?”

Dorian was glad he didn’t have to tiptoe around. Talking to the Iron Bull was surprisingly easy and refreshingly direct.

“She is not well, and something weird is going on.” Dorian wasn’t sure how much Bull knew and noticed. The Qunari’s face gave nothing away.

“‘Not well and something weird is going on’ has been the general state since Haven, though.” Bull was still waiting for Dorian to get to the point.

“True. But beside the point. She is not sleeping, and in debating how we could help her, we realized something odd going on.” The Iron Bull looked at him questioningly. He didn’t say anything, but Dorian could guess what he wanted to know.

“‘We’ being Vivienne, Varric and myself. Leliana probably too,” he explained. “According to Leliana, everyone she spends her evenings with assumes she just goes back to her room to sleep. But according to our dear storyteller, she has not slept in there even once.”

Bull still appeared relaxed, but Dorian realized he was paying attention now. Something about his posture had changed ever so slightly, and for a moment, Dorian wondered when they had gotten to know each other well enough for him to notice. Right then he realized another thing: Bull didn’t sound surprised.

“You already know?”

Bull only shrugged. “Some of it. I don’t have the whole picture, but I’m guessing no one but Amara has that. So where do you think she sleeps?”

“That is the odd thing, no one knows. And it cannot be somewhere comfortable or much sleep in general because she looks like she could fall asleep mid-fight most days now.” With a frown, he remembered the training session he walked by this afternoon. That former templar Amara liked to spar with, Belinda something, nearly ran her through with her sword by accident. Amara had been unusually sluggish during their training and kept staring into the distance at the most inopportune times.

“Does Red have someone following her at night?”

Bull’s question ripped him out of his thoughts and Dorian shook his head. “I think that would not go over well with Amara, and Leliana knows that.”

“You’re all mighty daft sometimes!”

Startled by Sera’s voice, he jumped a step sideways. Bull didn’t move a muscle and seemed entirely unperturbed as Dorian cursed. “Kaffas, where did you come from?”

Sera had the nerve to look at him as if he was the odd one. “Duh, from right behind. You said all the stuff ‘bout ‘Mara, can’t blame me for following, really.”

Dorian forced his breathing back under control. “I guess not,” he conceded. He looked accusingly at Bull. “As a spy weren’t you supposed to notice that we were being followed, though? Or are you one of the not particularly good ones?”

The Iron Bull just laughed at that. “You mean you didn’t know she was right behind us? I assumed she was supposed to be here, left the Tavern together with us.”

Sera nodded emphatically. “Wasn't like I was sneaking around or something! I just walked after you. It’s not my fault you don’t notice things…” 

“Alright, alright, point taken.” Dorian cleared his throat and pointedly ignored both Bull’s and Sera’s matching grins. “Please then, enlighten me. What obvious thing are we missing?”

Sera rolled her eyes dramatically. “That she isn’t like you. Or Bull. Or anyone here, really. She lived kinda like I did, but with more darkness. Way more darkness.” The two men were just looking at her as if they were waiting for her words to make sense to them.

“Thing is: when you’re used to something, it’s hard givin’ it up, right? Can’t live without it. Everything feels wrong. Especially when it was dark and muddy and now is all pretty and bright.” She was gesturing wildly as she talked, and Dorian took a cautious step back to not accidentally get hit in the face. “I’m sayin’, a hovel, dark corners and stale food? That’s real. Familiar. A comfy bed behind sturdy walls in a friggin castle? Unreal. Will always feel wrong.”

Dorian was frowning as he shook his head. “I am afraid I still don’t quite understand.” Next to him, the Iron Bull was just silently listening, his face giving nothing away.

Sera scoffed. “You really have no idea what her life was like before, huh? Not the tiniest? The mighty Inquisitor you all keep looking at, and no one looks at the woman. But I guess that’s how she likes it. Keeps everyone away and herself safe.” Sera sounded a bit like she just realized the last bit herself.

“Safe from what exactly? From us? No one here wants to harm her.” Dorian was still trying to follow, but he felt like he was missing a piece of the puzzle.

“Not you, but yeah, people of course! There are all sorts of them. Never know when you get a good one or when you’ll stumble over the foul apple in the bunch.” Sera shrugged, slowing down her words like she was talking to a small child. “Look, if she didn’t tell? Means she doesn’t want people to know. Lots of things done to her she wants to forget. Pretty certain she did something, too. Feels mighty bad about whatever it is. Stuff like that? Leaves you with no trust.” She sounded almost a little sad as she continued, “Like, take us for instance. Sure, we hang out. She told everyone that matters that she is my friend. We laugh, we bake cookies and play pranks. But after? She leaves. No choice really. Wouldn’t ever stay over or anything.”

Dorian was perplexed. “You mean, she doesn’t want anyone to know where she is actually sleeping? That feels almost too paranoid. Even to me, and I’m from Tevinter.”

Sera almost sneered at him. “Got it that quick, did you! But is nothing paranoid about it, really. It’s hard! You sleep, you are defenceless. Guessing she doesn’t want to be defenceless in a spot where all of Skyhold expects her to be, either.”

Dorian was still making sense of this when Bull spoke up next to him. “Her room. Of course. It’s strategic. Don’t be where an enemy would expect you. Keep your rest location a secret. So no one can sneak up on you.” There were no indications of his own feelings on the matter in his voice until he continued, “I’ve seen this before. In Qunari who came back from Seheron.”

“You know something that could help?” Dorian asked tentatively. He was at a complete loss about what to do in such a situation.

“Yes, when it comes to my people. For her? Neither she nor any of you would like that.” Bull seemed to be in deep thought, his eyes focused on something invisible in the distance.

“Well, think of something then!” Sera prodded. “Can’t have the Inquisitor falling off the roof because she’s tired all the time.” Her words sounded like her usual brash self, but both Dorian and the Iron Bull could hear the worry she had for Amara in her voice.

“I will think of something,” Bull promised her and made his way towards the stairs downwards. “Let’s get back before they come looking for us, and we have to spin a scandalous story to explain why we are up here,” he suggested, and the other two followed him directly.

Sera snickered at that. “Pah, you two are probably the best liars around ‘cept for Varric, you could make up a good one! Hey, that’s a compliment!” The last bit went towards Dorian who already looked like he wanted to protest. But there was something he still wanted to know ever since Amara had first mentioned it to him.

“Why do you two even meet up on the roof all the time if it is that dangerous?”

Sera stuck her tongue out and started running down the stairs, yelling, “Because the ground is full of people asking stupid questions!”


	2. The dream of flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hm, it seems I have told all my more amusing stories already.” Suddenly she had an idea and perked up. A terrible idea really. Later on, she would most likely blame her sleep-deprived brain for it. “How about something different?”

In the coming days, there weren’t any opportunities for anyone else to notice or question Amara about her nightly habits, and her encounter with Dorian was long out of her mind. She had done her best to appear more rested, even took up the habit of drinking coffee in the mornings. It hadn’t really helped with her general tiredness, but her efforts seemed to have made everyone around her worry less at least.

“Is it my time to tell a story again?” Amara looked up from her cards. It was Wicked Grace night again, the game night quickly having become something of a semi-regular thing among them. Everyone who wasn’t on some mission outside of Skyhold was usually there, and for an evening filled with cards, stories and plenty of ale, everyone relaxed and forgot about the looming threat above them for a while.

Varric nodded. “Your turn, Blue.” 

Amara had to think for a moment. “Hm, it seems I have told all my more amusing stories already.” Suddenly she had an idea and perked up. A terrible idea really. Later on, she would most likely blame her sleep-deprived brain for it. “How about something different?”

“Your story, Blue, you can tell whatever you like.” Varric winked at her as he sorted through the coins in front of them, absentmindedly arranging them by size and diameter.

“Well, my story is a tale I heard a long time ago, from a time when my clan lived just outside a city.” Amara looked hesitant but everyone around the table seemed to want her to tell something as well. “Most people we interacted with were working inside the city, here and there, scraping by. Nothing fancy, traders, craftspeople and the likes. Now, you all know about the great game in Orlais, right? There was this thing among the nobility that was something similar. And different at the same time. It wasn’t as involved as the things we saw in Halamshiral, but I’d say the stakes were even higher. At least on a more personal basis.”

She saw that she had gotten everybody’s undivided attention. “The thing you have to know about this particular city is: It is dull. At least for nobles. Everyday folk? Never a dull or slow day. But the nobility…”

Josephine nodded emphatically. “That is a common issue in any smaller city,” she claimed. “Many cities lack the importance for trade and the size that Kirkwall has, and if it doesn’t have anything like the rich cultural background of Starkhaven, amusement is scarce.”

Amara nodded. “Exactly. The nobles there were VERY bored. Especially those coming over from Orlais who were used to different flairs. So they found their own way of making the game interesting to them.”

“What did they do?” Dorian asked curiously.

“They played, of course. But with very different rules,” Amara said ominously. Somehow it felt both odd and yet strangely good to tell this particular story. Everything about the images in her head felt more vague, like an actual tale instead of unpleasant memories. “Naturally, it was all done in secret. But not behind closed doors. No, they were hiding their game within the game.”

Josephine slid to the edge of her seat. “How exciting this sounds!”

Amara forced herself to not let her face betray her thoughts. “It was. Though not for everyone… They held a grand evening musicale in the Viscount’s Keep every first evening of the fortnight. A Masquerade. There was dancing, music, artists, and nobles mingling all night long. But that was only what was on the surface.” Everyone was listening, the cards seemingly forgotten for the moment and Amara swallowed. Had it really been a good idea to tell this? But she couldn't very well stop in the middle of her tale.

“As I said, there was a different game at play. And no one knew who all the players even were. But if you had money, you could buy your way in. You made a donation to the Viscount, and then your name was placed in a silver bowl. And every night, there was a very special guest invited.”

At her words, the Iron Bull raised his eyebrow. “I think I can see where this is going,” he said with a smirk, and Amara shook her head with laughter, for a moment distracted from her own thoughts. Of course he would.

“Oh, I think you are very wrong,” she disagreed. “Anyway, once your name was in the bowl, there was no way to quit. The very special guest would enter the keep through a hidden back entrance and find an empty room that had nothing but the silver bowl with the names in it. From it, they got to draw one name. Now, to make it more interesting, there was the same amount of empty paper stripes in the bowl additionally to the names. So, if the guest picked an empty one, they just put it back, threw the entire contents of the bowl into the fire and quietly left. But if they picked a name…” Amara deliberately paused. With a dramatic pause she was certain would have made Vivienne proud of her, she looked around the table, slowly. Impatient eyes met her from every seat, and she took pity on her captured audience.

“If they picked a name, that was their target for the night.” She leaned back, keeping her face blank as she saw her friends around her getting even more curious.

“Their target? For what?” Blackwall asked with a curious voice.

“To kill.”

A collective gasp went through the group. “No way!” Josephine seemed horrified and excited at the same time.

“It’s almost unbelievable…,” Blackwall remarked with a shake of his head as Cullen scoffed.

“Oh I believe it in a heartbeat, some nobles I’ve seen would definitely be stupid enough for this,” he muttered.

“So the special guest was an assassin?” the Iron Bull asked, and Amara nodded. Was it her imagination or was his tone just a little bit odd? She couldn’t tell for certain as she went back to her story.

“The very best in the Free Marches, they said. And no one knew what they looked like. The beauty of the Masquerade, and this strange Orlesian fashion that seems to almost distort the body in its extravagance most of the time. And every night they played, there was a new silver bowl. The nobles only knew that there ‘might’ be someone who could be coming for one of them. The thrill of their night was trying to find an assassin who might or might not be there. Of whom they might or might not be the target.” Amara managed to swallow her own distaste for this kind of amusement and kept smiling.

Blackwall seemed to be at a loss. “So people actually died during this?”

“Of course they did,” Amara nodded. “Quite frequently. There were many players. Some nights nothing happened at all, of course, and that made it even more daring and compelling to many.”

Varric, who had been silent for a while now butted in. “I think I have heard rumours about this all the way over in Kirkwall.” He seemed to try to remember something. “Something about a bird, and singing?”

Amara froze for a moment. She hadn’t anticipated anyone in their group having heard about any of this. “True,” she admitted. She guessed she shouldn’t be surprised that Varric, of all people, had heard more than anyone else. “Each time the deed was tone and the assassin had ended their victim’s life, singing could be heard through the Keep. By the time people had followed the sound and found the body, the assassin was long gone of course. But that was how everyone knew the game had ended for the night.” Around her, she saw some of her friends shudder, and not for the first time she wished that that could still be her reaction as well.

“That must have been unsettling, hearing the song, I mean.” Josephine sounded a bit shaken.

“I’ve heard it was the opposite,” Amara said in a quiet voice. “If you heard the song, it meant you were still alive. You survived another round of the game. ‘May you hear the bird sing’ became a saying of wishing someone well among the highborn.”  
Varric nodded. “From what I’ve been told it was a voice that could make the wildest warrior weep.”

Amara shook her head in disbelief. “I doubt that. Perhaps they were rather weeping out of joy about not being dead,” she suggested but Varric didn’t budge.

“Not from what I've been told. I also heard that the assassin stopped one day. Simply vanished. And was never caught.”

“No one knows what happened to them.” Amara made a point of not looking directly at Bull now. She could feel him watch her with an odd intensity that was just a tad on the side of unsettling.

Varric seemed to be back in full storytelling mode. “Maybe they lost interest,” he speculated. “Or maybe they got a better offer somewhere else. If this went on for a while, there must have been quite a few victims. Maybe some ill-wishing relatives. Perhaps they got careful.”

“Perhaps they simply lost the taste for blood,” Amara suggested.

“Maybe,” Varric agreed reluctantly. “That wouldn’t be a good end to the story, though.”

She smiled at that and chuckled lightly. “No, I guess it would not. It remains a mystery. They haven’t been heard of for many years. But the nobles that played probably still remember. They called them ‘The Songbird of Wycome’.”

Josephine’s eyes were bright as she clapped her hands for applause. “Oh, this story was possibly scandalous!” She smiled almost shyly at Amara before that smile turned into a devious grin. “Tell it again!”

Everyone at the table had a hearty laugh at her eagerness.

“You know, Blue, I might have to put this into one of my books. It is simply too compelling not to write about so much intrigue.”

“Be my guest, it’s not like I have a copyright on local legends. Might as well let you have all the juicy bits.” With a shrug, Amara picked up her cards. “So Josie, you’re going to deal us in again or not?”

With another round of ale, they went back to their game, playing for hours until the night had almost turned into early morning again. One by one, her friends were leaving the table and went off to their beds until only Amara and Bull were left. The tavern was almost empty by now. The only noises came from the almost burnt down fire place, and Cabot somewhere at the far side of the room cleaning away the rest of the bottles. She and Bull were still at the table, Bull chuckling amusedly as Amara tried to do a knife flip they had talked about, repeatedly failing at it.

“It’s an easy thing to prevent really, you just have to adjust your grip slightly. Here, let me.” Bull leaned over to where Amara was sitting and, taking her hand into his, slightly adjusted her grip around the knife. “Hold it a bit further back and do not let it rest against your palm fully.” When her hand loosened up slightly, he pulled her fingers gently into the right position. “Try again, like this,” he encouraged her. With a skeptical look, Amara jerked her wrist slightly, trying to flip the dagger around as he had shown her. Unlike the last few tries where it ended up falling to the ground, it went perfectly. 

“Wow,” she breathed, immediately trying it again. It didn’t seem to be a fluke. Every time she flipped it, it came to rest in her hand again perfectly. “How?” she asked, her sceptical look returning. “What kind of magic is this? I’ve been trying to do this for years, and you tell me all it takes is this?”

Bull seemed both delighted by her enjoyment of the simple trick and amused at her question. “You can blame the person who taught you how to wield a knife, mostly,” he shrugged and Amara’s eyebrows went up.

“How so?”

“It’s in the way you hold your weapon,” he explained. Before he could go into more detail, she interrupted him. 

“You are telling me you can see someone taught me wrong - just by how I’m holding a knife years later? No offence, but that seems… far-fetched. Even for someone as smart as you.”

Bull grinned at her. “So you think I’m smart.”

“Did I say smart? I meant smug, of course.” Amara grinned at him before she continued. “No really, you are having me on with that, right?”

For a brief moment, he seemed to hesitate. She gave him a pointed look and Bull shrugged again.

“It’s all in the details. I told you before, I listen, and I notice things.”

Amara was still smiling, but her amusement was being pushed aside by genuine curiosity. “Can you tell me? The things you noticed, I mean.”

“If you want me to,” he said carefully. 

“You seem unusually guarded about this,” Amara simply stated, and Bull looked at her for a moment before he nodded.

“I mostly don’t tell people the things I notice about them. It tends to make them uncomfortable if I can tell them a good bit about who they are by things they didn’t even consider important.”

Amara couldn’t help the look of interest appearing on her face. “I bet,” she agreed. “But really, how much can something like how I hold my knife tell you about me? I can’t imagine it being all that much, to be honest.” 

This time, Bull did more than just gave her an amused chuckle. He outright laughed. “You’d be surprised!”

Amara leaned a bit closer to him and slightly nudged him with her elbow. “Go on then, surprise me!”

“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His face changed ever so slightly into a more calculating look as his eye went to her hand still holding the knife.

“My first thought when I saw you fight with daggers was that your teacher might have been a swordsman, unused to fighting with knives,” he started and Amara began to grin almost triumphantly. If this was his eye for detail, he seemed off to a bad start. Before she could say anything, though, he continued, “But the way you move your elbows, and the way you store the knives made me dismiss that almost immediately again. You were trained with knives from the beginning. Your movements show you are used to the range, but you still sometimes hold them like a sword.” 

“I do?” Amara’s grin had turned into confusion and Bull nodded.

“You do. That’s why you had trouble doing that particular flip. Your grip is too rough, you put too much strength into it, even when it is not necessary. There are several explanations for that, but most don’t fit you. But combine that with the difficulty you had trying to hold the dagger differently means that your muscle memory is pretty solid.”

Amara just nodded at him, urging him to go on. He was not wrong about the things he said, but she still couldn't see how this might give him any insight into her personality. He seemed to sense her impatience.

“So, holding a knife like a sword and having a hard time learning a new way means you probably learned it when you were very young. So young in fact, that a simple knife would actually be the size and weight of a sword to you back then.” He looked her up and down before he continued. “I’d say you were about 7 or 8. Not older.”

He was still speaking lowly and Amara felt like her own gasp at his word was uncharacteristically loud. “Seven,” she confirmed as Bull nodded.

“Must have felt quite heavy, a dagger like this to a seven-year-old.” He didn’t seem to be done yet. ”Now, you fight very efficiently, no fancy tricks, no flourish. You don’t slice, you stab. Meaning you didn’t learn this for show, and you didn’t learn it by playing pretend - you learned to kill.” Amara’s eyes had gone wide, but she didn’t interrupt him again. 

“You wear Dalish markings on your face but you don’t speak their language, given how often Lyssa translates something for you. Your facial markings also aren’t nearly as old as hers, judging from the colouring and the scaring. I’d say less than 10 years. So you grew up among humans.” He kept listing all those facts about Amara’s life with a casualty that made her wonder and worry just how many of her secrets had actually ever been that secret to him. It was a terrifying realization, but at the same time, she was utterly fascinated.

“What else?” she asked almost breathlessly.

Bull gave her an amused look. “How much time do you have?” he asked simply. But he seemed willing to indulge her curiosity some more.

“Growing up amongst humans who teach children how to kill leaves little to the imagination about what kind of people they were. Your training and your behaviour in battle says ‘Assassin’ quite clearly, but given how close you are with Lyssa and considering her moral values, means you stopped. I’m guessing vaguely around that time you got these markings and joined her clan. Given where that clan is located, and your quite unusual story tonight...” His raised eyebrow made her tense up. This was going into a direction that started to make her worry. Just how much about her did he actually know? She was unsure just how to react when he sighed.

“As I was saying, it usually makes people uncomfortable.”

Amara shook her head, trying to shake off the feelings of unease. “No, I asked. Don’t worry.” Her voice didn’t sound as light and carefree as she had hoped. “I’m not uncomfortable. It’s just really very interesting - and a bit surprising - how many details you notice,” she added hastily, trying to bring the ease of their earlier conversation back.

Bull snorted and shook his head, looking at her intently. “You lie terribly, Boss,” he mused. 

“I am not trying to…” Amara started, then interrupted herself. She hated how shaky her voice sounded, even to herself. “Someone told you,” she said tonelessly. That was the only explanation that made sense. The only one she wanted to make sense.

“Boss,” his voice sounded soothing as she looked up. “No one told me anything.”

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to believe him.

As if he read her mind, he went on, “We train together, I’ve seen some of your scars. And we drink together. The Chargers sing and you get that look… Together with all the things I just mentioned, and knowing your clan lives near Wycome…”

Amara shook her head again in disbelief. “So you what, just figured all that out?” It made sense. The only person who knew all this besides herself was Lyssa, and she would never betray Amara’s trust like that, of that she was absolutely certain. She should have seen it coming. And most of all, she never should have told that story. The thought that all of this knowledge about her was so easily put together by him made her almost wish that Lyssa had simply told him. It would have been devastating, but far less terrifying to deal with.

Bull pushed the ale towards her, encouraging her to take a sip to calm down. “If it helps, I don’t think you are easy to read. Nor do I think someone else figured it out.”

Amara let out a hollow laugh. “You think you are that much smarter than anybody else?” she scoffed.

“No, I actually think you are that much less on your guard with me,” he replied bluntly. “Which is also the reason you are still sitting here despite being uncomfortable.”

“It’s terrifying,” Amara admitted quietly, looking at a spot behind him as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I don’t even understand why. I feel like I should run but at the same time I… don’t want to?” She sighed, playing around with a piece of loose wood at the side of the table. “So you know. Who I am, I mean.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Bull answered nonetheless. “I know who you once were,” he corrected. “As for who you are now, I am still figuring that out. I have a feeling that those two people are not all that alike.”

It was a simple, yet incredibly loaded statement and Amara mulled it over in her head before she spoke again. “I guess not. I hope not.” Carefully, her eyes found his. “So you are not, I mean, you don’t…” the words seemed to be stuck in her throat.

“What? Judge you, boss?” He shook his head at her slight nod. “Amara, I’m a Qunari spy and a mercenary captain, why in the world would I judge you?”

Her smile felt a bit forced as she answered, “You are right of course. It’s just… many others would, though…”

“I’m not many others. I am your friend,” he simply answered, and Amara felt the tension in herself dissolve at his words. He was, wasn’t he? It still felt somewhat strange to her sometimes, but he had become someone she had started to rely on.

“So, which reason was it, actually?” Bull suddenly asked, and Amara was ripped out of her thoughts.

“Which reason was what?”

“Why did you stop?” 

Amara considered coming up with a reason that would make her sound so much better than she had ever been, but the thought went away as quickly as it had come. There were no lies between them. Silences? Yes. But never lies. She knew he would drop it if she didn’t give him an answer. But perhaps it was time that she gave him something.

“Would you believe me if I say I am not certain?” she asked. Bull just looked at her, sensing that she wasn’t done yet. “I’m not even entirely sure why I did it in the first place. And for so long. Was it because someone told me to? Because I didn’t know any better at first, or because I felt like I was losing my mind and because I was a coward? Or because some part of me enjoyed it?” She didn’t look up to him as she spoke. “If you’d ask me, it was probably a little bit of each.”

He was silent next to her and Amara felt her heart sink a bit. She could have lied or simply been smarter earlier and tell a different story. She wasn’t even sure what compelled her to tell this particular one. That out of all her friends Bull would be the one to see through everything was something she should have anticipated. And perhaps she even did. Perhaps she had told it exactly for this reason. He had called her on it and it was her decision now to sink or swim.

“I don’t sing anymore.” Her voice was very soft and she sighed. She missed it sometimes. Not the murder parts. The plain and simple joy of singing a song. When she had left her old life behind she found that she had left some of her voice behind as well. "I used to love singing," she admitted quietly. "Actual singing, I mean." Wistfulness clung to her every word. "Somehow songs seem to lose their ability to bring you joy once you realize that even your voice is drenched in blood."

As if Bull could sense exactly just how much of herself she had put out there in front of them, just how much she trusted him, he wrapped an arm around her, comforting her. Without much thought Amara relaxed into his embrace. “It’s alright.” Softly, he caressed her hair as if to soothe her. “I’ve said it before, but maybe you need to hear it again: I don’t think any less of you.”

Amara nodded softly, surprised by how much she felt like she had already known that he wouldn’t. But it felt good to hear it nonetheless. She closed her eyes and simply enjoyed his closeness and the feeling of acceptance that came with his touch.

Later, when she would be on her own again she would worry about what that all meant. She would probably make a list of all the reasons why befriending anyone in her situation would be a horrible idea. And maybe she would convince herself that she should stay away. Perhaps she would even mean it, at least for a while. At least that was how it usually went right up to the point where she would find herself right back where she was at the moment. The place where she felt that maybe having a friend wouldn’t be too bad after all.


	3. That what you see through the window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly he had come to terms with the fact that he could not, would not pursue her. Not matter how much he actually wanted to. He knew when the call from his home would come he would betray her in a heartbeat and would probably find a way to live with it afterwards. But she would not.   
> He would have to find another way to do his job within the Inquisition properly, he just had to be distant enough to not give in to what he actually wanted. After all, he was used to wanting things. Just as he was used to never let himself have any of it.

It was only around a week after their shared evening in the tavern that they found themselves alone in the middle of the night again. After hours of sitting around the campfire together and admittedly a couple of drinks Bull found himself unable to look away from the woman next to him. Her head thrown back and one arm holding her stomach he saw tears of laughter on Amara’s face as she tried almost desperately to force some air into her lungs again. He had just finished telling her about the Charger’s first trip ever to Orlais. The part where Krem had to wine and dine an Orlesian Noblewoman never failed to make himself smile whenever he thought back to that mission. Amara seemed utterly delighted by the image he had painted with his story and he in turn found watching her enjoyment mesmerising. A sudden touch on his arm brought him back to reality. In her efforts to keep at least somewhat upright, still gasping for breath between chuckles Amara had grabbed his arm to stabilize herself. Without thinking too much about it, his other hand closed around hers. He could feel the moment she noticed, only a small fraction of a moment later than he noticed himself. Her laughter stopped and she was looking at him, her eyes wide and full of uncertainty. 

Not for the first time Bull cursed everything about his situation. He had put a lot of care into staying physically distant from the Inquisitor as much as possible. It went against everything he was - and most of all against everything he personally wanted - but it had seemed like the most efficient way of ignoring his own attraction to her. He had always been a very physical person. Not just with his bed partners but with everyone around him. An arm around Krem’s shoulders, a pat on the back after a well-done training session, a nudge here, a slight touch there… It was part of who he was. With Amara, he almost never allowed himself to touch her. And yet just a week ago, he had ignored all that, just because she needed comfort. Afterwards, he had cursed himself all over again for ignoring his own carefully crafted rules. Rules he had set in place deliberately when he had realised for the first time that he wanted much more than to put a casual arm around her shoulder, despite the fact that he was supposed to, no, expected to get close to her.

It had sounded like a rather easy task in the beginning. Get into the Inquisition, scout out their structure, find out which one of the people in charge would be most susceptible to his charm and get close to them. By any means necessary. The first few days in Haven, he had kept a close eye on everyone, immediately ruling out Leliana as a potential target after he had spoken to her for the first time. She was far too observant. Cullen was crossed off his list a few days later. It had quickly become apparent he was nearly unapproachable, his mind somewhere else. After observing the Inquisition grow steadily he had narrowed a possible way in down to Cassandra and the two Heralds. Two Heralds had become one when he realised that Lyssa was sometimes all too sceptical about him and had set her sights onto someone else already. When they got to Skyhold, and Amara became Inquisitor, while Cassandra seemed happy to be in a far less influential position, the choice seemed an easy one.

Despite his openness about being a spy and letting Leliana read all his official reports, he had always had other ways to stay in contact with his superiors back home. Ways even the Inquisition’s Spymaster had no clue about. Ways that had made him able to let them know he had found the perfect target. Ways through which he had gotten a simple reply: ‘Make it happen.’ He had known what to do and had set out to get to know the Inquisitor better. To become a friend, someone she would confide in. And, if everything was going to plan, to become someone she would rely on, to take advice from… He had had little qualms about it, it hadn’t been the first time that his job had included this level of deception. He was a master at becoming the kind of person someone else wanted or needed him to be after all, so this should not have been different. 

It had taken him almost embarrassingly long to admit to himself that it was different after all. The more he got to know Amara, the more he liked her. He had been attracted to her from the start. A good thing normally, after all, liking his target made certain parts of the whole thing so much easier. But with her, things quickly began to feel unusual. More and more, he found that where he usually was playing his part perfectly, he had let her get to know parts of him that were not a character, not carefully designed to make her like him, that were just him. Whenever he was deliberately playing her in the beginning they had some fun banter, but it never went past that. Amara was probably one of the most shut off and guarded people he had ever met. Never really showing anything real, anything personal. Not until he did it first at least. Bull was rather certain that it wasn’t even something that she did consciously, but she seemed to almost sense which parts of him he showed her were real and which were not. 

The irony was not lost on him. The way to get past Amara’s defenses had been to let her in through his own, to let her get to know the person behind the Qunari spy, behind even the mercenary captain. Just plain him. The person that he, for all intents and purposes, usually pretended didn’t even exist. It was almost laughable to him now when he thought back on how he had felt that this would not become a problem. How he had thought he could let her get to know him in exchange to figuring her out without being compromised by it. It had backfired almost spectacularly when he realised after months that he had not only become completely infatuated with her but also at the same time had become reluctant to do what he had been sent for. 

He didn’t know her entire past, but he could guess some things. She had been horribly hurt before, both physically and mentally. The Qunari side of him kept pestering his mind with scenarios of how to best use that knowledge to manipulate her right into his arms. But another part of him almost reeled at the thought, knowing what it would do to her. It didn’t help that she was clearly interested in him. Slowly he had come to terms with the fact that he could not, would not pursue her. No matter how much he actually wanted to. He knew when the call from his home would come he would betray her in a heartbeat and would probably find a way to live with it afterwards. But she would not. 

He would have to find another way to do his job within the Inquisition properly, he just had to be distant enough to not give in to what he actually wanted. After all, he was used to wanting things. Just as he was used to never let himself have any of it.   
But now her hand was in his palm and she was still looking at him and for a brief moment he felt himself sway. He wasn’t made of stone after all. Perhaps, just this once, he could let himself go. Just a bit. Take what he wanted and at the same time give Amara what she also clearly desired. Before he knew it, his hand slightly moved, his thumb gently caressing her wrist. He could feel both the confusion and the want in Amara almost radiating in waves off her as his gaze fell onto her lips. It would only take a second to close the distance between them. To pull her close and just taketaketake…

The faint cry of a bird made him go almost rigid as he realised what he was doing. With a quick squeeze of his hand he let go of her, trying not to be too rash, too off-putting as he stood up. He only dared to look at her out of the corner of his eye, but it was still enough to see the tiniest flash of hurt and resignation flash over her face as he excused himself and went to check on the camp perimeter. This would do no good. Tomorrow, if everything went as planned, they would have an official alliance with his people. There had never been a worse time for his control to be slipping.

Of course, in the end nothing went quite as planned, and everything he had silently feared happened anyways. An impossible choice to make, and in an instant everything in his life changed. When they left the Storm Coast behind, for the first time in his life, Bull wasn’t actually certain what exactly he felt. It was the most quiet trip back to Skyhold yet. Gatt was glaring daggers at him but refused to even say a single word while Amara refused to even look at him. He could see just how angry she was in every move she made, but with all that had happened running through his mind, he was mostly lost in his own thoughts. Many of them came down to one question: What would happen next?

~ . ~

The answer didn’t let him wait for very long. It came only days later and in the form of poisoned knives. He had seen it coming early enough to not get caught off guard but a point was made nonetheless. 

Amara was looking from the dead assassins at their feet to the stab wound on Bull’s chest. He had said he was immune to the poison, but she still couldn’t help but cringe slightly at the blood trickling down his side. It had only been days since the Qunari had denounced him. Barely even a week after their disastrous trip to the Storm Coast.

“And here I thought you wanted to invite me to a drink or two. But this is fine too, I guess.” She sounded rougher than she wanted to.

Bull chuckled slightly, but his expression was guarded. 

“Wasn’t sure that would have been appreciated,” he said plainly. “You were quite angry with me when we returned.”

“I was. I was furious, actually,” Amara frowned as she stepped closer to check out his wound.

“You’re not anymore, though.”

“I did some thinking. And I think I understand some things now.” Carefully, she checked how deep the cut was, feeling him wince slightly when she touched the frayed skin around it.

“Understand what exactly?” He had an odd look on his face as Amara let the injury be and took her hands off him. She didn’t back off again, remaining close as she looked up at his face.

“Why you did it. Or better, why you made me do it.”

The odd look persisted as he raised his eyebrow at her. When he didn’t say anything else Amara just went on.

“You know, at first I was confused. And then, a bit later, I got really angry. Those were your men. You were responsible for them. And you made me decide whether to save them or not.”

Bull straightened. It was barely noticeable, but Amara had spent enough time with him by now to see it anyway. “I hesitated.”

“No, you did not,” she said almost harshly. “You don’t hesitate. You decide things, instantly. And you stick with it. I know you well enough by now to safely say: You did not hesitate that day. Not even a little.”

She could feel the lighthearted atmosphere that usually accompanied almost everything when it came to Bull change around them as his gaze hardened. She had expected him to deny it at least once, but he seemed to have no inclination to do so.

“You had made a decision already,” she went on. “And it was the wrong one, and you knew it. That’s why you put that on me.”

“And just why would I do that?” he asked, his expression not giving anything away. For a moment, Amara was unsure if she should perhaps back down. Everything in his demeanor looked a bit more threatening than usual, more dangerous. She had her suspicions that it was something he fell back to when he was out of his comfort zone for once, but it didn't lessen the very real sense of danger he gave off. But this was something she had to get out.

“Because you would have let the Chargers die.”

Something in his eye flashed. Pain? Regret? It took her a second to see it for what it was. Guilt. She had hit a nerve. “You would have killed them to save the ship. The alliance. And through the Qun, you would have found a way to somehow be alright with it, too.”

He still stared down at her with an almost eerily calm expression, but the smallest movement went through him as if he couldn’t stop himself from flinching at her words.

“You would have done the Qunari thing. And you knew the entire time that I, in turn, would do anything to save them,” she continued, standing her ground against his stoic demeanor.

“That’s why you made me decide, because you knew I would do the thing you could not do.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but tense silence between them. She was almost startled when he suddenly spoke.

“It would have been the smart thing to do,” he said, his voice somewhat hollow. “The strategic thing.”

Amara huffed. “Ah, and there is that Hissrad person Gatt kept talking about.” He looked at her sharply but she did not let it deter her. “The good Qunari soldier. The problem was: the Chargers were not Hissrad’s men. They were the Iron Bull’s.”

“Names.” Bull narrowed his eye at her. 

“So much more than names. You are not this person Gatt knew once. Not anymore.”

He laughed at her, and it sounded almost condescending. “And you think you know who I am?”

Amara narrowed her eyes at him. “Better than he did, obviously. He didn’t know who you are at all, only who you once were.” 

He seemed to deflate a bit at her words.

“But I could have been that again. Under the Qun. Easily.” He had told her about the reeducation once before, and the memory of that talk alone made her shiver.

“I know, but you are the Iron Bull now. And he doesn’t want to.”

“Maybe he should,” Bull said, looking past her at the dead body on the floor. Amara stepped aside, directly between him and the dead body, forcibly blocking his view.

“He can’t,” she insisted as he looked back at her. “Because the Iron Bull is not Qunari. And he hasn’t been for quite a long time, I think.”

“No,” Bull spat. “He is Tal-Vashoth instead. I am Tal-Vashoth.” The amount of disdain in his words sounded almost frightening.

“And?” Amara snapped back. “Who the fuck cares?” She could do nothing but counter his anger with her own. “Last time I checked that’s a Qunari word. And you are not one. So what does it matter what they might call you?” 

“You don’t understand,” he argued. “Being Qunari meant stability. Something that kept me sane through it all and now…” He looked past her, his teeth clenched and Amara felt her anger evaporate as quickly as it had built up.

“Bull,” she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “You haven’t been acting like any Qunari I’ve ever heard about, from the moment we met. And I am certain that every single one of your Chargers would say the same.” He wasn’t looking at her, but she thought she could feel him relax slightly into her touch. “I’ve known you for months now, and you have always been stable and sane around me. And I am willing to bet that that has nothing to do with the Qun and everything with who you are.” When he finally looked at her again, there was an unexpected calmness on his face. One of his hands came to rest on hers, giving it a light squeeze. 

“Thank you, boss,” he said simply and Amara smiled at him.

“Anytime.”


	4. The freedom of choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So listen, I’ve caught the hints. I get what you are saying.” He sounded very deliberate. “You want to ride the bull.”
> 
> Amara just stared at him for a moment, her eyes being almost comically wide before she broke down in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “You did not just say that…” She was almost wheezing and through the tears in her eyes she could see a rather amused expression on his face as well. “Does that line actually work?” She had to lean against the wall, her shoulders still shaking.
> 
> Bull sounded definitely not insulted as he laughed along. “It usually either gets people all hot and bothered or makes them laugh. Both are results I can work with.”

A few days later Amara slowly made her way up towards her room. They had come back from a quick rift closing trip through the lands surrounding Skyhold in the early afternoon and even though she had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the spot there were a hundred requests being thrown at her the moment they had entered Skyhold. She had spent the remainder of the day running back and forth, trying to solve as many issues as possible. Things, as usual, had piled up while she was away. Whomever stayed behind, her or Lyssa, always had to work for two people when the other one was away from the keep. And it certainly hadn’t helped that Leliana, Josephine and Cullen were all especially busy with preparing for their trip to Halamshiral. Cassandra usually did an admirable job supporting Lyssa in their absence but she could see the relief on the other woman’s face when she reported on everything that had been going on and excused herself shortly after. Cassandra was good at keeping order but she hated being in charge of people. Perhaps that was why she was so good at it, Amara mused not for the first time.

After finally being done for the day she had taken a long bath and put on fresh clothes. After a few days on the road with only lakes to wash in and sleeping in tents every night she had been looking forward to this every day they were travelling. She still wasn’t used to all the luxuries around her, but being clean was a comfort she had little trouble getting used to and that she missed dearly when on the road again. She had planned to spend some time in the tavern and relax before finding a place to sleep tonight, when Krem informed her that the Iron Bull had gone to talk to her. Suspecting that he might have been looking for her in her room, she went back to Skyhold’s main building. Climbing up the stairs she noticed her exhaustion coming back in full. With every step, her legs were definitely trying to kill her a bit more.

Amara opened the door to her room and walked up the small stairway at its side. She didn’t know if it was a testament to just how exhausted she was or rather a show of his skills that she didn’t actually see the Iron Bull sit in her room before he started talking. She flinched, barely noticeable, when his voice came from behind her.

“So listen, I’ve caught the hints. I get what you are saying.” He sounded very deliberate. “You want to ride the bull.”

Amara just stared at him for a moment, her eyes being almost comically wide before she broke down in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “You did not just say that…” She was almost wheezing and through the tears in her eyes she could see a rather amused expression on his face as well. “Does that line actually work?” She had to lean against the wall, her shoulders still shaking.

Bull sounded definitely not insulted as he laughed along. “It usually either gets people all hot and bothered or makes them laugh. Both are results I can work with.”

“And here I was thinking my flirting had gone unnoticed. Or that I wasn’t obvious enough.” She was slowly getting her breath back under control. Briefly she wondered when the last time was that she had been laughing this hard. Thoughts of the evening at camp before the failed alliance came to her mind and with it the confusion she had felt. “Honestly, lately I thought that all that flirting might have been slightly unwanted…” She could tell from his look that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He shook his head.

“Never unwanted,” he assured her. “But some things have changed.” Neither of them needed to point out what exactly that has been. “And don’t worry, you were plenty obvious. Can’t say I blame you. But I’m not sure you know what you are asking. Not sure if you’re ready for it.” He winked at her. Or maybe he had just been blinking. She could never tell. 

Amara wasn’t entirely sure what exactly he was getting at, but right in this moment she couldn’t care less. “You make it sound like I am going to take a test. In which case I can say: I have practised a lot!” She put on her best cocky grin and heard him chuckle in response.

“You want to hold a conquest boasting contest? I think there is a betting pool about that already going somewhere in Skyhold,” Bull remarked. In fact, he had suspected Krem and Luka, the dwarven woman that hung out with them during their evenings whenever she was in Skyhold, to be two of the main instigators of that particular betting pool.

“Oh, I know there is,” Amara confessed. “I had Sera bet quite a bit of money on myself.” Her eyes were full of mischief. “But we can stand here talking or we could start making some actual notches into my bedposts.”

Bull gave said bedposts a quick once-over as if to evaluate the actual validity of her suggestion. “See, you say that, but… You really don’t know what that means.” He had stepped closer to her, stopping only when she was directly in front of him. Usually Amara wasn’t all that comfortable with people who towered over her. Everyone who seemed even slightly physically imposing was someone she tended to be weary and very careful about. With Bull those worries mostly didn’t register. After months of fighting, drinking and having each other’s backs in almost too many situations to even count anymore, she had slowly learned to trust him. So where she usually would sidestep and avoid, she felt only excitement instead of worry for once.

“So why don’t you show me?” she asked with the most winning smile at her disposal.

Bull closed the gap between them, taking her wrists in one of his hands, slowly raising them above her head and pinning her against the wall. “Last chance,” he murmured.

Amara’s eyebrows raised up as she felt herself shiver. ‘If this were anyone else’ flashed through her head with a mild feeling of uneasiness. But it wasn’t. It was Bull, her friend. One of the very few people in her life she actually trusted. The feeling went away as quickly as it had come and a slow smile spread over her face. Her voice dropped into her best bedroom register. “For what? Requests?” she asked teasingly.

He gave her a fond look before he closed that last bit of space between them and their lips finally touched. She didn’t know what she had expected but this wasn’t it. First kisses, in her experience, were usually far from perfect. Lots of fumbling around, trying out things that worked or not. The first tentative steps of getting to know each other on another level. But Bull kissed her like he knew her already. And maybe he did, Amara thought. His kiss was languid, unhurried, and she was almost surprised by the amount of tenderness in it. From the way they had been sparring together, she had expected him to be much more forceful. Then again, his almost soft kiss was in sharp contrast to the iron strong grip he had on her wrists. Tentatively she had tried to wriggle them around, just to feel how serious he was about that only to find she could not move them even a millimeter. Realisation hit her and she gasped sharply. If she decided she wanted out, there would be absolutely nothing she could do. She felt an old and familiar sense of panic surging up in her. He had taken just that moment to pull back slightly. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked quietly, almost directly against her skin.

She could feel his grip on her hands loosen immediately. Still holding her in place but softly instead, as if to tell her that if she wanted to pull away she could do so any time. Amara scoffed at herself inwardly. She had wanted this for so long after all. Her first instinct was to lie. To tell him she was fine, but something in his face made lying impossible. “Yes,” she admitted.

He looked from her face to where he held her and and back. “I figured,” he said simply. “Do you want me to stop?”

For a moment Amara didn’t know what to say. What she wanted. Her uncertainty was fighting a direct battle with her arousal. But he didn’t rush her. Patiently waiting for an answer from her, he just looked at her without any judgement. Amara swallowed before she finally shook her head. “No, I don’t want you to stop,” she said quietly. “But I may need you to take it slow.” She felt his hand around her wrists give her a reassuring squeeze. A promising smile was on is face. “I was planning on slow anyway,” he said lightly before he turned very serious for a moment. “If you ever want me to stop you say ‘katoh’ and I will stop immediately.”

She looked at him curiously. “A watchword?”

“Ah, so you are familiar with the concept,” he smiled as she nodded. She had no experience with this kind of thing but she had heard enough from others to know the basics. He went back to kissing her, slowly and very deliberate. “Now, try to relax,” he murmured in between kisses against her skin. “I will take care of you.”

His breath was hot on her skin, and despite the leftover uneasiness about his strength and his hold on her, she felt herself almost melt at his words. The kisses kept coming as his free hand wandered over her body, slowly exploring every part of her he could reach. She didn’t know how long they had been standing here but by the time he pulled back and let go of her hands, she almost felt like she was in a trance.

Wordlessly, she followed him as he pulled her gently towards the bed, divesting her of her clothes on the way. Something about this felt so very different from her usual encounters. Normally, there was a push and pull, a constant fighting for dominance with almost everyone she had taken to bed lately. With him, it felt like he was the one both pushing and pulling her along, and she only had to follow. No. Wanted to follow. The realization that she actually enjoyed him taking charge made her uneasy again as she found herself on her back, on her sheets with him hovering over her. Trapped between his bulk and the bed, she felt almost frail in comparison. She tried to force herself to relax, to simply enjoy what he was doing, but her brain seemed to have decided to go into overdrive instead. What if he was here because he knew her mostly for her boisterous appearance? What if she was too frail for someone like him? He had said he was going to take care of her. But did he want her to be this passive? Or would he want her to challenge him? 

“Stop.”

Startled, she looked up. What should she stop? Had she even been doing anything? Bull was looking down at her with a mixture of fondness and concern. “Stop thinking,” he elaborated. “Stop trying to find a reason to not enjoy this.”

Amara took a deep breath. “I… don’t know how,” she confessed. “This feels different. With you, here. I don’t know what I should do. To make you enjoy this too, I mean,” she added with a small voice.

“You are supposed to do nothing at all, that is the point of me taking care of you.” Her face seemed to have made her scepticism obvious because a moment later he shifted, pressing his lower body into hers. She gasped as she felt his hardness pressed against her. “And believe me, I am most definitely enjoying this.”

Amara’s eyes widened slightly at the feeling of him against her. But part of the uncertainty remained. One of his hands gently cupped her face before rough fingertips carefully caressed the skin along her neck.

“You are a beautiful mix of opposites,” he mused and her eyes shot up to his face.

“How so?” she breathed. His hand was now running down over her breasts, gently rolling one of her nipples between his fingers. “You crave attention more than anyone else I have met, but you are utterly lost on what to do with it once you have it.”

Her first instinct was to tell him how wrong he was, but his fingers on her breasts made her unable to do anything besides moan.

“You exhaust yourself with taking on responsibilities and want nothing more than to leave them behind for a while. But when you do, you are restless and uneasy,” he continued. “And you are so full of needs and wants, but you are terrified of letting yourself lose.” 

Amara was shaking underneath his hands, his voice. From fear or from arousal, she could not say when suddenly his mouth was at her ear, his tongue gently caressing the tip of it.

“Let me help you,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

With a helplessness that felt strangely freeing, Amara nodded. His hands found her wrists again, pulling both her arms up above her head until she reached the headboard. Gently, he closed her fingers around it, motioning her to hold onto it. “I am not going to tie you up or hold you down,” he kept whispering in her ear. “Not yet. You’re not ready for that.”

A shiver went through her at his words. Up until right now she would have said that the idea of being tied up during sex held absolutely no appeal to her. But something in his words and in the way he had held her against the wall earlier made her somehow doubt that that was still the case. His hands left hers and travelled down her body again.

“But you are going to keep your hands where I put them, for me.”

It was not a question and it sent another wave of excitement through her. She nodded at him, much more eager than she had felt before, and he smiled.

“Good,” he said simply, before she felt him shift further down the bed. As gently as he had been the entire time, he pushed her legs apart, settling in between them. “And now you are going to stop thinking of what might be expected from you. If I want you to do something, I will tell you.”

Amara felt herself getting lost in the sensations of his hands on her. Running up her thighs, tracing the patterns of her tattoos with his fingers. She felt his mouth above her knee, starting a trail of kisses upwards with the occasional light scrape of teeth over her flesh that made her quiver in anticipation. Her eyes had fallen shut, concentrating on the feel of his fingers on her. Forgetting herself she started reaching for him, her fingers slipping from the headboard. Almost immediately, he stopped what he was doing and her eyes flew open. 

“Hands back up,” he said simply and Amara found herself reaching for the headboard again without questioning it. Bull gave her an encouraging smile. “And keep your eyes open and on me,” he added and she instantly started straining her neck, keeping her head up just so she could see what he was doing. With one glance at her effort, he moved around, and a moment later, she felt a pillow being gently pushed underneath her head, allowing her to keep her eyes on him while still resting comfortably. When he went back to what he had been doing before, a feeling of warmth tingled though her that had little to do with her arousal. 

She could do nothing but stare at him as his hand slid up her thighs again, this time not taking their time at all. At the first teasing touches of her centre she gasped loudly, causing him to smile before one finger started to push inside of her. All the worries that she had struggled with certainly didn’t seem to bother her body at all. He slid into her without even the slightest resistance. When he lowered his head and his tongue darted out to lick her in her most sensitive place, she couldn’t stop herself from moaning loudly. Almost startled by the sound of her own moan cutting through the otherwise quiet room, she felt herself flinch. His other hand came to rest on her hip, pushing her down into the mattress and holding her still as his mouth and fingers sent sparks of pleasure through her. She watched him with wide eyes as he kept going, working her up to more and more intense pleasure. When she felt a second finger enter her, her hips bucked up into his mouth. His grip on her hip became harsher, keeping her in place more forcefully than before,the pressure of his fingers grabbing her bordering on being painful.

A strange sensation went through her, an unknown current. A feeling she couldn’t place at first. It went away as quickly as it had come again when she stilled her movements and he eased up on his grip. Before she could think too much about it she tried it again, trying to push her hips further towards him. His hands tightened again, just a little bit harsher than before, this time clearly passing the threshold into being painful. She heard herself moan again as the feeling returned, stronger this time and she started to realize what it was she felt.

Somehow the pain of his grip was turning her on.

That could not be right, could it? Bull seemed to have noticed what she was doing, looking up at her intensely. She felt herself getting flushed in embarrassment, unable to look away. Briefly, she thought she could feel him smile against her before he raised one eyebrow. Without saying a word he increased the pressure on her hip, digging his fingers deeper into her skin, his gaze never wavering from hers as he flicked his tongue against her again. Amara felt as if all the air in her lungs had been pushed out for a moment, helplessly gasping for air as she came almost unexpectedly at the combined sensation. Her entire body was shaking, her fingers almost clawing into the headboard as he pulled slightly away from her, moving up to kiss her. At the taste herself on him another spark of desire went through her. With a knowing look he pushed himself off her, reaching for his own pants, carelessly undressing as he talked. “So, pain…”

Instantly, she felt her cheeks flush again. “I…” she started, unsure what to say. 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he shrugged. “It’s not that unusual.” His pants fell to the floor, and for a moment, Amara was distracted by the sight of him standing completely naked in front of her. He seemed both amused and happy at her blatant staring. “So, I take it you’re still up for more?” he asked teasingly and Amara couldn't help but grin at him.

“Definitely!” Somehow, she had started to be able to relax somewhat. More and more, she felt like their interactions, their way of talking didn’t seem to differ much from the friendly atmosphere and ease they had before this. As different as this evening was from any other they had shared before, this was still unmistakably Bull, her friend.

“Is it really not that unusual?” she asked suddenly. The bed dipped under his weight as he joined her again.

“Really not,” he assured her as he pressed himself closer against her, his hands running up her arms, caressing her hands that were still firmly holding on to the headboard. “You didn’t let go yet,” he mused.

“You haven’t told me to do so yet,” was her simple answer and she saw a spark in his eye.

“Indeed.” A satisfied grin spread over his face as he leaned closer to her ear again. “You’ve done so well.” A shiver went down her back at his praise and it got her another knowing look from him. 

“Why do I get the feeling like you’ve been making a list with things about every single habit I have and every subtle thing you notice in the back of your head the entire time we’ve been doing this?” she asked half playful, half curious. She had learned not to underestimate just how little could escape his attention.

He laughed, his face full of appreciation. “Because you are a very smart woman.” With that he nudged her hands. “Let go and turn around.”

Carefully she unclenched her fingers, stretching them out slightly before she pulled her arms down. Before she could move further he had taken her hands in his, pressing a kiss on each one before smiling at her again. She grinned before pushing herself up and turning.

“Damn, you are a treat to look at,” came his appreciative voice from behind her before she felt a small sting on her behind. “Up!” he ordered, his hand on her ass pushing her slightly forward. It hadn’t stung much at all, but the act alone made heat pool in her lower body again as she scrambled forward on the bed to where he was maneuvering her. She was on her hands and knees when he put her hands on the headboard again, making it clear that she was to hold on to it just like before.

Biting her lip, she hesitated a moment before she decided to just ask. “Can you do that again?” 

“Can I do what again?” Bull sounded amused and she knew that he was fully aware of what she meant, but he wanted her to say it nonetheless.

“That slap. Can you hit me again, please?” She was barely finished when his hand came down onto her, harder than before, though she guessed it was nowhere near his full strength. Her arms shook with the impact as she held onto the wooden bedframe, moaning again. Before she could ask again he repeated the action and her legs almost gave out at the intense feeling of pleasure running through her.

“Fuck!” she cursed. This was not something she had expected. Bull’s hand was soothingly running over the still stinging flesh.

“If you want to explore this further we can definitely do that,” Bull said slowly. “But perhaps not today.”

She turned her head to look behind her, catching his serious look. “Why not today?” 

"A harsher grip here or a slap there are one thing," he explained. "But if you want to try anything more intense I will have to insist that we postpone that until you are comfortable with me holding or tying you down." 

"Why? I mean, why does that matter?" she asked, still confused and a bit worried that her lack of knowledge would start to grate on him. But Bull didn't look annoyed at all as he went to explain.

"It's for your sake as much as for mine. Anything stronger could seriously hurt you when done wrong. And the body has a mind of its own sometimes. One sudden twist or involuntary movement and I might hit you in a way that was not planned." He waited for her to nod in understanding. "And I do not want to hurt you in a way you do not entirely want. Not even accidentally."

She couldn’t help but smile at him. “So this means that this is definitely not a one time thing then?” she asked with a satisfied grin.

For a moment, he just looked at her fondly. “A one time thing was never really an option here,” he simply said as he gently pushed her legs further apart so he could settle up behind her. From the corner of her eye she could see him taking himself in his hand and giving himself a couple of slow strokes. “You’re still good? Still up for this?” he asked again, and Amara nodded.

She licked her lips in anticipation as she felt him at her entrance. He took his time, pushing into her almost agonisingly slow. Part of her was impatient, but the other part was grateful for his care. He was definitely larger than the elven and human men she had been with before, and for the moment, she appreciated that he had taken his time earlier to get her as excited and as relaxed as she was now for this. She could feel him groan behind her as she clenched around him, one hand running up her back, tangling into her hair. He tugged slightly at it, causing Amara to tilt her head back as far as she could. 

Everything around her felt almost surreal for a moment. Something about the entire situation made her hyper-aware of her surroundings, from the fabric of the sheets against her knees, the texture of the wood beneath her hands to the pressure of him inside her and his hand in her hair - everything felt overwhelmingly real to her. For a brief moment, she wondered if she was perhaps exaggerating in her mind. She had had plenty of sex before in her life. Good sex, great even. This, by all means, shouldn’t be that special. And yet… 

A sharp tug on her hair as he finally was sheathed all the way inside her brought her focus back. This time his grip in her hair was actually painful, but like before it felt so much better than she could have imagined. A small noise that sounded half moan, half cry left her mouth.

”You’re good?” Bull asked almost immediately, his voice hoarse. She couldn't see his face in her current position, and his hand left her no leeway to turn around but the way he was breathing heavily behind her almost made her lose her balance. He was definitely as affected as she was, and even if she hadn’t really doubted that before, it was still nice to hear it so clearly.

“Couldn’t be better!” she breathed out and let out another pleased sigh as he started moving inside her. 

Despite being obviously as aroused as she was, he went slow, almost pulling all the way out of her again before pushing back in with the same calm pace he had started. When she tried to push back, to get him to hurry up, he pulled her head further back by her hair again, sending a wave of pure pleasure through her that made her almost lose her grip on the headboard. When she felt her fingers almost slip, a thought went through her head that almost shocked her. She tried to ignore it, but it didn’t go away, and she couldn’t help but wonder. When Bull was all the way inside her again, moving just the tiniest bit faster now she decided to take the leap.

“Bull,” she moaned, her tone already pleading. “Can you try to hold me down again?”

He paused behind her, letting go of her hair and running his hand over her shoulders instead. “You’re sure about that? You don’t have to prove anything here Mara,” he said softly.

His concern for her touched something deep that only confirmed her thoughts. She wanted this. More than she would have thought possible. “I know,” she said back calmly. “I am not trying to. I just... I want you to.”

His arm went around her chest, pulling her up and back towards him. The move pulled her away from the headboard and almost upright for a moment, her back not quite touching his chest, but close enough to feel his warmth. “Hands behind your back then,” he spoke next to her ear, and she shivered as she briefly shook her arms out before doing what he asked, crossing her arms on her lower back. A kiss and a small bite to her earlobe was her immediate reward as he growled into her ear.

“You have no idea how amazing you look like this,” he said, voice cracking just a bit. “One day I will do this with you in front of a mirror, just so you can see.”

The promise sent another shiver through her as she felt his hand move from her hip to her wrists, closing around them in a tight grip. His arm around her chest shifted, allowing his hand to skim lower, running teasingly over her stomach while still holding her upright as he started to move again. His fingers dipped between her legs as he pushed inside her again and again, finally picking up a faster pace than before. With wide eyes and her lips parted, she watched his fingers find a rhythm, sending bolts of pleasure through her, sharply accentuated by his immovable grip on her wrists. Briefly, she tried wriggling them again. This time, when she found she could not move them at all, it only furthered her excitement. She felt herself rapidly approaching another orgasm as his thrusts became harder and his fingers were moving faster.

“Amara,” his voice was stained with the same lust she felt run through her own body. “Come for me like this,” he urged her on, his lips finding the sensitive part where her neck met her shoulder and the hand around her wrists tightened just a bit more.

Almost instinctively, she tried to surge forward, part of her wanting to struggle, to be reeled back in. And nearly instantly he delivered, pulling her back against him harshly, her wrists and arms staining under the force. “Come!” he straight up ordered, his mouth still on her neck. “I have you!”

And with that, she felt his teeth bite down and herself explode in pleasure at the mixture of pain and pure ecstasy running through her veins. She heard herself scream his name as her head fell back against his chest, her whole body shaking with both exhaustion and the aftershocks of reaching her peak for the second time.

For a moment, he went rigid underneath her as she felt him spill himself inside her with a deep roar and some words in a language she didn’t understand before he came to a halt. Ragged breaths and deep sighs were the only sounds in the room for a while as he kept holding her against him, waiting for them both to come down from the high. When she turned her head so she could see him again, he gently let go of her hands, helping her turn around before kissing her deeply. A moment later, he shifted them, laying them down onto the bed before pulling her close to him. 

Amara listened to his still fast beating heart with her face pressed against his chest as she tried to find her ability to speak again. “That was…” was all she got out.

Bull chuckled underneath her. “I know!” 

“Wow!” she breathed. “And that was only the first try, imagine what we could do with some practice.” She grinned up at him, feeling at least some of her usual bedroom confidence returning.

“Oh, I am imagining,” he assured her. “Vividly.” With a promising smirk, he pulled her in for another kiss. “Give me a couple of minutes and we can start on that.”


	5. How to breathe without air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are safe. No one can get in here. You are not alone.”

When Amara woke up, it was almost completely dark in her room.

She had had that dream again. The one that she had almost every night. It was just her, trying to cross a lake. Sometimes she felt like she knew the place, other times it was just a random area with water. And every time she was halfway through the lake, she felt the water in her lungs. She never even had her head underwater, but she started to drown anyway. There was no struggle, just the depth of the lake suddenly all around her. And every time she started drowning was when she would wake up. She wouldn’t say it was a nightmare per se. Not anymore. Nightmares scared her, had her heart beat faster.

This dream didn’t.

She wasn’t afraid while swimming through the lake. She wanted to make it to the other side, but every time the water took her breath away, she felt herself calmly accepting it. There was no terror or struggling. Just acceptance, and then a cold and dark nothing. She had long stopped waking from it with a start. Instead, she woke gradually as if from a deep and relaxing slumber.

For a few seconds, she was blissfully unaware of her surroundings as she comfortably stretched underneath the thick blanket that covered her. She relished the feeling of being sore in the best way possible, pleasant memories from the last evening flitting through her mind, coaxing out a smile from her before something gave her pause. Before everything gave her pause.

She was in her room.

In the dark.

With a sharpness in her movement that hurt her over exercised muscles, she scrambled up into a sitting position. Grabbing one of the sheets to hold closely to her naked form, she desperately tried to see her room clearer. There was only a very dim light coming from somewhere on the far side, and it did little to help her see. Sheer panic set in as she took in her situation.

She tried to calm herself, but suddenly what had happened before she had fallen asleep turned from a pleasant memory to wake up to into something twisted in her panicked state. She struggled to hold on to the clear and comfortable memories. He had done nothing she didn’t ask for. He had helped her relax. She hadn’t been hurt. And she had participated enthusiastically.

But part of her screamed at herself. She had given over control. She had let him hold her down and _enjoyed_ it. Had enjoyed being completely physically helpless. She had trusted him not to hurt her, but now, every alarm bell in her head rang loudly, drowning her in her own fears. Years of learning how to be on her guard at all times, thrown out in a heartbeat because she had felt safe for a moment.

She remembered when she had last felt this safe and what it had led to. The face of her long lost love, looking at her with cold, dead eyes flashing through her mind. Her stomach lurched, and for a moment, she was afraid she was going to throw up.

Amara must have made a noise in her distress because the light suddenly started moving towards her. With a small cry of anguish, she struggled to get untangled from the sheets and blankets on her. She stumbled out of the bed, still clutching one of the sheets to her. A sharp pain on her hip made her let out a small yell as she bumped into the nightstand in her rush. She felt trapped. For months she had avoided this room like the plague, and now it felt like she had woken up in a cage. She was alone in a room with too many doors and windows to be safely guarded, naked, a person between her and the balcony that was far too high up to jump from anyway. Someone was speaking calmly to her, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying over the sound of her own unsteady breathing.

She had somehow ended up with her back in the corner of her dresser, and she flung her arms around herself. Vaguely she saw the light being put down on her nightstand. The voice was still speaking, much closer this time. Bits and pieces of sentences made it through to her now.

“You are safe. No one can get in here. You are not alone.”

When she looked up, she could make out the Iron Bull’s form through her tears, crouching in front of her. A large hand was carefully and lightly placed on top of her own hands.

“You are safe Amara,” he repeated.

Amara didn’t know how long she sat there, how long she was crying or how long he kept calmly talking to her until she finally felt she could breathe again. She dimly noted that, while he was in front of her, he had crouched down in a way that wouldn’t trap her in the corner if she felt like running away. He hadn’t tried to move or touch her other than holding her hands to calm her down. Hadn’t raised his voice to get through to her either. She was incredibly grateful, but at the same time she didn’t know how she should react now that it was over. Panic attacks were nothing new to her. Someone being there and _not_ making it worse or simply leaving was something entirely new, on the other hand. She took a deep breath and winced. Half her body was hurting. She wasn’t sure how many more things than just the dresser she had hit in her panic without really noticing.

“Are you back with me, boss?” she heard Bull ask and nodded carefully.

“I think so, yes,” she croaked. She had to clear her throat several times before her voice felt like her own again.

He held his hand out in front of her. “Want to get up and get somewhere more comfortable?”

Amara appreciated that he didn’t just pull her up but let her choose instead. She took his hand and let him help her up. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she was grateful that he steadied her like she weighed nothing at all to him. Bull took the sheet that was now lying next to her and carefully wrapped it around her shoulders before he led her back to the bed to sit down. A glass of water was suddenly in front of her.

“Here, drink something,” he encouraged her. It was only after the first sip that she realised how thirsty she was, and she wondered again just how long that episode had lasted when she realised another thing.

“You stayed here all night?” It was half a question and half a statement full of surprise and disbelief.

Bull took the empty glass out of her hand and put it back on the nightstand as he answered. “You were dead to the world earlier tonight, and I didn’t want you to wake up alone in an unfamiliar place.”

His statement was so matter of fact that it took Amara a few seconds to process what he meant.

“How did you know?” She asked and hoped he wouldn’t simply say ‘Ben-Hassrath’ like it should explain everything. It gave her more questions than answers, most of the time.

“Small hints.” He sat down in the large ornamental chair next to her bed, careful not to crowd her. “Oh, and Dorian blabbed,” he added, and Amara’s eyebrows shot up. Dorian? How did he find out? Before she could wonder more about this, Bull was speaking again.

“You know, I have seen things like this before.” His face was serious, but the way he looked at her was full of sympathy. “If you need someone to talk to about this…”

Her flinching gave him pause

“It doesn’t have to be me, but you should talk to someone about this. Someone you trust.”

He didn’t seem to be put out by her reaction at all, and not for the first time Amara wondered if there even was anything in Thedas that could actually get him to judge her. So far, there had been nothing at all. The mere thought of having anyone else witness what he already saw about her almost made her flinch again.

“I do trust you, Bull,” she whispered, as if the thought alone was still too new, too unsettling to say it too loud. “And I feel safe around you. Otherwise last night definitely wouldn’t have happened.”

She could see on his face just how fully aware he was of the amount of trust she placed in him in the past twenty-four hours. Where she earlier had been glad that he had given her space, she now shuffled a bit closer to where he was sitting. As if reading her mind he reached out to her. Amara was still shivering, but she let herself be pulled onto his lap. Strong arms carefully closed around her and held her like she was something delicate. And for the moment, she actually felt alright with that.

"I have never talked about any of this to anyone before,“ she admitted. "I don’t even know where to start."

“Wherever you want to and with whatever you feel comfortable, Amara.“

The sound of his voice saying her name outside of the bed, when he usually just called her boss, was soothing and put her further at ease. She took a deep breath.

“You noticed the tattoos, I guess…“ She gestured to herself as he laughed softly.

“That is not a serious question right?“ His good eye was glinting mischievously.

Amara appreciated his attempt at making her smile. He had this habit were he regularly, through small things, reminded her that things were only ever as grim and serious as they allowed them to be. It had a remarkable effect on her sometimes. She couldn’t bring herself to smile, but her shoulders visibly relaxed for a moment.

“I mean, you’ve noticed that they are not just regular ink?” Her voice sounded a bit hesitant. “Not all of them at least.”

He nodded but kept silent, waiting for her to continue. She needed to take her time even just talking about this, and he understood. Amara gave up finding the exact right words to say what she wanted to say. She took his free hand in hers and guided it to the large and colourful floral pattern on her inner thigh. Where her skin felt more like patched up leather than regular skin. “They are not really tattoos,” she explained. “I mean they are, but they were not really whimsically decorative.”

His fingers were tracing the patterns gently as if he was exploring her for the first time. “So what happened?” he nudged her to continue talking. “What does cause this many scars?”

He was asking but she strongly suspected he had a pretty clear idea of the possibilities. He was asking for her benefit as much as for his curiosity.

The points of her ears were flushed from his movements but any vaguely pleasant thought went away when she remembered. “Knives, torture, burning oil, people needing a confession regardless by whom…” Her voice sounded hoarse as if the memory of her screaming in agony was strong enough to still affect it.

“And the flowers?” he prompted. His voice pulled her out of the memories a bit.

“Make them almost invisible if no one is close enough. Less questions. And…” She hesitated.

“And it helps you not to see the scars everyday,” he finished her sentence, and she nodded thankfully. But it seemed like his curiosity was not yet sated.

“But why flowers? And why those?” he asked, and Amara looked at him questioningly. What did it matter? She wasn’t even entirely certain she knew that answer for herself.

“I am not sure. They are pretty? My favourites, even though I don’t even know what they are called.” She looked at his scarred torso directly in front of her. “This must seem really silly to you.”

Bull shook his head and continued to softly caress her. It reminded her of how she herself would try to soothe and pet a frightened animal, and given her own state at the moment, that comparison was probably appropriate.

“Not silly at all,” he told her. “You took something pretty to cover up something horrible, that is a rather normal thing to do, don’t you think?”

Amara couldn’t really disagree. It made sense when he put it like that. But things were never that simple in her head somehow. Just like this entire situation she found herself in now. It felt natural to sit here like this with him. But something in her head nagged at her that it couldn’t be. Shouldn’t be. That this was not what he had come here for yesterday. That for someone with her reputation, surely this must have been a very disappointing night. She felt another useless sob coming up and laughed awkwardly to overplay it.

“This is probably the opposite of what you expected last evening, and I am really sorry for that,” she admitted without daring to actually look at him. His hands stopped for a second before they resumed to caress her soothingly, and he shook his head.

“Don’t do this to yourself now, Amara. I promise, I am here because I want to be. And you want me to be. If that changes, let me know!” Again, his tone didn’t leave any room for debate or doubt. Amara wondered how she could trust him so implicitly with her safety, but still somehow doubt what he said sometimes.

“Even though I promised you a great night of fun?” she prodded, just to make sure.

His chuckle caught her off guard. “I didn’t come here for a wild night of fun.”

She could feel him watching her carefully as he talked.

“I came here for you.”

Simple. Direct. Just like that.

She could feel his honesty slip through her guard little by little.

“You know, under the Qun, especially the Ben-Hassrath, there is a saying, a philosophy if you will,” he continued. “When it is a hostile target, you give them what they want. But when it’s someone you care about, you give them what they need.”

Amara’s eyebrows shot up. “And what do you think it is I want?”

Bull smiled at her as if she had just asked the most obvious question in existence. “You want to forget. You want to numb the pain or distract yourself so much from it you can pretend for a moment that it never happened.”

For a moment a look of pure agony washed over her face. She swallowed, but the lump that formed in her throat didn’t seem to disappear. Was she that transparent? Was it only him that could see or did everyone else see it, too? Embarrassment spread through her and she looked down, trying to hide the rush of emotions.

“Is it so obvious?” she asked quietly.

His hand moved up to caress her cheek. “No, it isn’t. Not when you don’t know what to look for.” Relief went through her, but she still hung her head. He lifted her chin up to look at him while he continued. “It is also not a bad thing. For a while at least. But something tells me you have been doing this for more than a while. And it might not be what you need right now.” He looked at her with so much understanding she couldn’t even try to lie herself out of this one.

She took a deep breath before she asked her next question: “So what is it I _need_ in your opinion?”

“You need to let go. To find closure. Acceptance. The past is unchangeable, and it is done and over. It cannot hurt you anymore.” He sounded so sure that she felt like she could almost believe him. “It has no power in the present other than the one you give it, but you need to accept that it shaped you, is part of who you are.”

Amara felt her eyes water as he pulled her a bit closer to him. She knew that what he said made sense. On some level, it was something she had always known. Yet even thinking about some things made her almost physically recoil. “What if I don’t want it to be a part of me?” she said softly. “Trust me, no one would like the person that I was back then.”

With soft movements that seemed almost impossible from someone as large as the Iron Bull, he stroked her hair as he held her. “Your past is always a part of you. But that doesn’t mean it defines who you can be today. Who you could be tomorrow.”

She tried to force herself to relax back into his arms, but she still felt like a tightly strung bow, ready to fire or simply break in half - whatever came first. But Bull seemed to have all the patience and calm that she was severely lacking at this moment when he continued, “It makes you uncomfortable to even think about it, right? You never got any sort of closure for what happened to you.”

Amara leaned her head against his chest to avoid looking him in the eye. “I don’t know if I ever could? I can’t even think about that time clearly without feeling....” She struggled for words. “Panic, disgust, terror. And I am afraid if I let those thoughts in, they will tear me apart, and I won’t have anything left to glue back together a second time.” She shivered again, and she was well aware that it had nothing to do with the room temperature and everything with the icy feeling that wouldn’t let go of her heart.

“You are feeling helpless because that is what you were back then. Because things were taken from you, and you weren’t in control. You weren’t powerful enough to stop things then, so now you cling to your control and the power you have to never repeat that.” Bull seemed to have it all figured out, and Amara wasn’t sure if she should be reassured by that or terrified.

“Power and control sound like very useful things to have.” She was aware that she sounded a bit defensive, and she was sure he noticed, too.

“They are. Take being in power over being without it any day,” he agreed. She could sense that that was not all he was going to say. And as if right on cue he went on, “If being in control and in power is the only thing you _can_ be without it breaking you, though, that is more of a hindrance than help, don’t you think?”

Amara was quiet for a little while as she mulled over what he just said . “So, you think what, I need to learn to not be in control? To not have power? Was that what last night was about?” The thought alone unsettled her, and she was glad when he immediately shook his head.

“Not at all. You already know how that feels like. What you need is to see that there are other ways than brute force and screaming to be in control. That letting someone in does not mean giving something up.”

“How?” She was more than curious. Bull usually had a perspective that was so very different from everyone else around her, including herself. Her understanding of his way of thinking had come a long way, but it still felt so limited that she usually couldn't even begin to guess where he was going with something.

“It wasn’t about that last night, but it’s also not a completely separate thing,” he explained, and she could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I didn’t hold you down to help you work through something, but that doesn’t mean that your reaction didn’t have anything to do with this.”

Amara hummed thoughtfully. She could see what he meant. She had never before willingly let herself be that vulnerable in front of anyone else. The strong emotions connected with that had frightened her. But somehow, it had turned into something intense and intimate that had felt freeing instead of terrifying. Much like it had felt when she had stopped being on her guard around him all the time and started to genuinely enjoy the friendship he had offered. “I never thought that I could give up all control to anyone really, not before last night,” she admitted. “And that I would feel so safe while doing it.”

“You didn’t give up all control. You let me take charge, but I gave you a watchword for a reason,” Bull noted. He paused for a moment, making sure he had her full attention. “You can be sure of one thing: I will never do anything to you that you don’t want.”

He seemed very adamant of making sure she believed him on this. His hands had stilled, and he was looking at her like he was trying to look directly into her head. “I will never hurt you without your permission. You will always be safe with me. You give me the reigns you hold so dearly, but you will always keep the power to say no. You say the word, and I’ll stop. No questions asked, no explanation needed. All you need to do is say it.”

Amara surprised herself as she realised that she absolutely believed him when he said that. When did that happen? She wasn’t sure, but she had somehow come to trust him implicitly. Briefly, she wondered if that thought should scare her, but when she realised it didn’t, it was like something heavy had lifted off her chest.

“So basically like Belinda going to look for small spiders during the day to get over her fear of fighting the big ones?” she asked, a small smile finding its way onto her lips. It had sounded like a thoroughly sensible thing to do when her friend had told her about it.

She could feel Bull’s laughter through his chest. “Pretty much, but hopefully a bit more pleasant. Hopefully.” He smiled down at her and she chuckled at the understatement.

“And with fewer legs involved one might hope,” she added with a straight-up grin by now. Bull raised the eyebrow of his good eye at her.

“Now that can be a topic up for debate at a later point.”

Amara felt herself blush slightly. “What I want, and what I need, huh?”

Bull was back to being serious. “Sometimes, they are the same. Sometimes, they are not. Let’s start simple: What do you want right now?”

His question caught her off guard. For a moment, she was tempted to say ‘nothing’ just to see how he would react. But he expected an honest answer of her.

“Right now? I kind of want to make some really inappropriate jokes that will get you to either leave or throw me back onto the bed and have your way with me.”

He looked at her rather amusedly. “Is that all?”

Amara almost squirmed under his look.

“There is something else you want.”

It wasn’t a question. Bull waited for her to gather enough courage to let him see behind the flirtatious mask she slipped on all too easily when it came to matters of her heart.

“I…” She wasn’t sure how saying something so simple could be so hard. “The other thing is kind of embarrassing. I don’t know how to…” She let out a frustrated sigh.

“Hey, there is no judgement here.” He made sure she was looking at him again before he continued. “I am not going to think any less of you, whatever you may say. Just ask.”

He was asking him to trust her, and she almost felt a bit embarrassed about having been afraid of his reaction, after what they had shared last evening. He wouldn’t mock her, she was sure of it. “I just… want to keep doing this. You holding me, the talking, with no expectations for the rest of the night.”

When he looked at her, she could only see warmth and fondness on his face. “And what do you think you need more?” he asked.

Amara was sure he knew her answer already, but she felt like she owed it to herself to actually say it. “The second one…”

He just held her a little closer and resumed slowly stroking her back underneath the sheet. “Than that’s what we’ll do.”

“Just like that?” she asked carefully as if she was still expecting a catch.

Bull just kept her close in his arms. “Just like that.”

And _just like that_ she spent her first night in over a decade just being held close by someone dear to her. The dreams came again like they did every night. She didn’t really expected them to be chased away by the mere presence of someone next to her. But this time, when the dream took her back to the lake, she found she could finally breathe.


	6. Tug of war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thrill of excitement went through her as she met his look with an equally challenging look of her own. “I think you’re bluffing. You won’t.”  
> Quiet laughter rang close to her as Bull leaned in with a raised eyebrow. “Bad move, boss.”

“Working extra long hours, Boss?” Bull’s voice made her jump and turn around. She had been absorbed in thoughts, not hearing him come in at all. Come to think of it, she was pretty certain that at least where her advisors were concerned he wasn’t supposed to be in the war room at all.

“How did you even get in here?” Her heart was beating slightly faster than usual. If that was from him startling her or just because of his general presence, she couldn’t tell.

“Now, Mara, I can’t give away all my secrets right away, can I?” His smile was definitely a smug one. He was undoubtedly proud to have not only surprised her but also apparently snuck past Josephine and a good amount of people in the great hall in the process.

Amara raised her eyebrows. “Should I be worried about what happened to Josi?” she asked teasingly when she suddenly realized why he was actually here. “Damn it!” she cursed. “I said I’d meet you around eight in the tavern and I’m late, right? I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

There was no light coming through the stained glass windows anymore when she looked around. It was only then that she noticed how dark the entire war room had gotten. A strange noise almost startled her again. With one careless move of her arm she had toppled over one of the strategic figurines on the war table behind her. With a small sigh, she turned and placed it back again, where it was supposed to be.

Bull just shrugged. “The Ambassador is most likely absolutely fine. And probably asleep, given that it is past eleven.”

“Crap!” Amara cursed again. “I mean, I am really sorry!”

But Bull wasn’t angry or upset at being basically stood up at all. That she had been held up by important Inquisition business was nothing new, and nothing he needed an explanation for. He hadn’t come here just to scold her for something she had little control over. “Don’t worry about it. I just came to make sure you are all right after everything. Last night…”

“Last night was amazing!” she interrupted him. “And I am not avoiding you!”

“I know, I was there, remember? And the thought of you avoiding me hadn’t even crossed my mind.” It honestly hadn’t. He knew Amara tended to hide away from problems, but so far, she had never hidden away from him, even if it had been obvious that she had wanted to. “But last night, while amazing, was also intense and I just wanted to check up on you.”

A warm feeling went through Amara as she heard his words and she smiled widely. Bull had crossed the remaining distance between them almost casually while they had been talking and was now directly in front of her, his hand caressing her cheek. She leaned into the touch instinctively, closing her eyes and just enjoying the feeling for a moment. She had had to force herself to stop thinking back to last night constantly during the day to get any work done. Lyssa had already given her a couple of strange looks and Leliana had not appreciated having to repeat herself several times because Amara had had trouble paying attention. But now the day was done, and Bull was in front of her, and she couldn’t have stopped her thoughts going back even if she had wanted to.

“I really wasn’t avoiding you, but if I am honest I was a bit worried about seeing you again. After all this,” Amara admitted quietly. Before Bull could answer her she added, “I know you said this wasn’t a one time thing, but…” It felt difficult to look him in the eye, and she lowered her head slightly, a familiar nervousness settling in her stomach again.

Both his hands carefully clasped around her face, gently making her look at him again. “Amara, I wouldn’t lie to you!” He sounded so sincere that Amara wanted to kick herself.

“I know,” she mumbled. “But in my experience, people say all sorts of things in these situations that they might not entirely mean or that they might regret… well… after.”

He shook his head. “No, I meant every word.” He could see the hints of uncertainty still hiding behind her eyes. She had trusted him with so much already, both with her body and with her mind. Yet some part of her obviously still feared that she was nothing more than a passing fancy. That would just not do.

“Amara, listen to me!” He had her full attention, his fingers still framing her face gently. “I promised you something last night, didn’t I? I said that I would never hurt you without your permission? That you would always be safe with me?” When she nodded, he went on. “I am making you another promise right here: I will never lie to you. Not ever.” He could see her inner struggle. “You trust me in so many aspects, trust me in this, too. Please.”

Amara swallowed at the pleading tone his voice had taken. He was right, she did trust him. Had for a while already. More than she would have ever admitted to herself before those last twenty-four hours had happened. Slowly, she nodded, and when his worried and serious look started to transform into a relieved smile she couldn’t help but mirror it. For a moment, they just stood there, looking at each other quietly before he moved and gently pressed his lips to hers. They had shared an abundance of kisses the night before, but somehow, it still felt excitingly new to Amara. His lips moving over hers, the slight scratch of stubble against her sensitive skin... She could feel the scar on his lip as he moved, the pressure on her own lips as he urged her to open her mouth. A shiver went through her the moment that she obliged him, and he deepened the kiss. When they pulled apart again, Bull still hadn’t let go of her, allowing her only the briefest moment to take a breath before he kissed her again. Amara let her hands wander over the parts of his chest she could reach, not for the first time being grateful for the fact that he never seemed to bother with anything even resembling a shirt.

“So, my room or yours?” Bull’s voice rumbled through her between more and more intense kisses. She wasn’t sure. Her room was technically closer but all those stairs meant they could probably get faster to his instead. “You better decide quickly,” he murmured against her skin. “Or I’ll decide to take you right here.”

Amara blinked, startled by the suggestion before she scoffed slightly at his impatience. He pulled back a little to look at her, eyebrow raised in a clear challenge. “Go on, tell me I won’t.”

Of course he would. He would never have said anything if he hadn’t meant it. The thought alone had no business being this tempting to her. Amara swallowed as she looked around nervously. They were alone in the war room, no one was still around this late, but just outside, there were definitely guards patrolling. She could still hear the faintest noises from afar, meaning that there were still some people up and moving around in the great hall. A thrill of excitement went through her as she met his look with an equally challenging look of her own. “I think you’re bluffing. You won’t.”  

Quiet laughter rang close to her as Bull leaned in with a raised eyebrow. “Bad move, boss.” His whole body was pressed against hers now and she could feel just how serious he was through their clothes already. “Watchword?”

His lips were ghosting over her ear, and Amara realized that he would probably not push this if she refused to answer. This was her choice. He wouldn’t continue without her explicit agreement, and suddenly the potential wrath of her advisors didn’t really seem like an issue anymore. “Still Katoh,” she sighed as his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin at her neck.

“Good.” That was all the confirmation he needed. Without further ado, both his hands were on her, making short work with her clothes. Tunic, pants and underwear carelessly thrown onto the floor between them. When she was naked in front of him, his arms snuck around her, lifting her up and placing her gently onto the table. “Hands on the table. Behind you.” He said it quietly, but her reaction was nonetheless instant, leaning back slightly as she followed his instructions.

Bull took a moment to appreciate the view. Anticipation shining in her eyes, her breasts moving ever so slightly with her now fast going breath as he spread her legs in front of him. Amara was breathtaking, and he caught himself thinking that she would look absolutely amazing in nothing but the elaborate rope work of an Antaam Saar. Something to bring up in the future, he decided when he saw her tremble under his gaze. The present was far more interesting at the moment, and he knelt down between her legs, holding them apart as far as it still seemed comfortable for her as he started a trail of kisses from her knee towards her centre. The slight tremble in her thighs under his touch made him smile against her colourful skin. He knew she wanted him to hurry, but he liked nothing more than taking his time. Waiting for that wonderful moment that she would snap and urge him on, only for him to make her wait again. It was a game they had started playing almost instantly, from the moment they had gotten to know each other. A constant push and pull they both enjoyed. Though in his opinion, right now, he definitely got the most out of it watching her fall apart so completely under his touches.

Right now, Bull could feel how tense Amara was, her muscles tight and twitching slightly as he scratched the outlines of some flowers with his teeth. She let out a quiet moan, obviously trying her best to not alert anyone outside to what was happening inside the war room, and Bull smiled, determined to test just how long she would remember to reign herself in. With a quiet groan of anticipation he found her most sensitive spot, his tongue darting out without hesitation, not bothering to work her up slowly. It had only been a couple of hours since they had last been like this in the early morning, but the smell of her, her taste, had been something he had already missed in that short amount of time.

A muffled sound came from Amara who was already struggling to keep still and keep her voice down. He could feel how much she wanted to move, to push into him and set her own pace. How much effort it took her not to move. He slowed down even more in response, his hand leaving her shaking thigh to gently part her folds, pressing a finger into her. That seemed to have done the trick. He could feel her starting to move, and his other hand immediately clasped her hip, holding her in place. “No moving,” he said with a hint of amusement, starting to slowly move his finger in and out of her.

“You did that on purpose,” Amara hissed between moans, trying to focus enough to look at him. There was a smug smile on his face as he looked up at her.

“Of course I did,” he agreed almost sweetly before his mouth suddenly was back on her, sending another wave of torturously sweet and slow building pleasure through her that made her arms almost give out. Her eyes fell shut as she started to lose herself in the sensations, only to fly back open as Bull suddenly added a second finger, pushing inside her deeper than before. He didn’t even need to tell her to keep her eyes open, she had gotten the message loud and clear. When he saw he had her full attention again, he finally seemed ready to give her what she wanted, working his fingers in and out of her while his mouth alternated between quick licks and soft suction. Amara’s mouth fell open, panting desperately, trying to hold on as she felt the familiar sensation of heat building up inside her. She was almost there. So close. Just a little bit more…

She hadn’t even realized that she had closed her eyes and thrown her head back in her search for release until he suddenly stopped. A wail of frustration left her mouth as she felt his fingers withdraw from her. “Bull, please!” she begged, as he moved back a bit, only the hand on her hip still touching her. “This is not fair.”

He shrugged, but there was a spark of mischief in his eye that betrayed his nonchalance. “I never said this would be fair.”

Amara groaned. “Come on! Do us both a favor here,” she argued. “I know you are not made out of stone.” He was still wearing his pants, but it was still more than obvious how much he was enjoying their current situation.

“I’m not,” Bull agreed. “What I am, though, is much more patient than you.”

Amara huffed. “I wanna see you try and keep your composure with my mouth all over you.”

At her words Bull’s grin became wider. “You want to put your mouth one me? Be my guest.”

It was as much an invitation as it was a dare, but Amara didn’t lose a second before she scrambled up and slid down the table. Two could play this game. He hadn’t lost any time either, undoing his pants the moment that Amara had started to move. He stepped out of the discarded garment the moment she came up in front of him. She let her hands run over his impressive length, licking her lips in anticipation as she felt one of his hands in her hair. He wasn’t pushing her, just gently resting his hand against her head as she carefully took him into her mouth. She moaned around him at the taste of him on her tongue. Before she could start moving his grip in her hair became firmer, holding her in place.

“Same rules apply,” he sounded just a little bit more hoarse than before as he spoke. “Keep your eyes open and on me. I want to look at you.”

Amara shifted slightly so she could look up at him, her hands covering the parts of his shaft she couldn't reach with her lips as she started to move. She could both see and feel him taking a sharp breath as she let her tongue swirl around him, and she would have grinned at him in triumph had her mouth not been otherwise occupied. She hollowed her cheeks as she tried to fit as much of him as she could inside of her, stroking him in the same rhythm, repeating the motion again and again, until she could feel his fingers twitch against her head. She moaned around him before letting him slide out of her mouth all together. He didn’t give away much but the smallest twitch in his muscles let her know that he was nowhere near as calm as he pretended to be. His eye was locked with hers, he stared at her with slightly parted lips as she let her tongue dart out to catch the leaking bits of fluid at his tip. He let out a sharp breath, barely even a moan and his fingers seemed to tense almost involuntarily in her hair.

“You know, I actually don’t mind some movement,” she teased, leaning back into his hand. Bull got her hint instantly, grabbing her hair sharply, the tuck sending shivers of pleasure through her. Instinctively, she let her mouth fall open again and then he was pushing her back onto him.

Bull had known she was baiting him but if he had to be honest with himself, he did not care at all. The feeling of her mouth around him and her tongue sliding along his shaft washing over him as he watched her. He was utterly mesmerized by how she strained her neck to look up at him, wide-eyed in her efforts to keep her eyes open, letting him thoroughly enjoy having all her attention focussed on his pleasure. He pulled on her hair, slightly speeding up her movement, and for a moment, her eyes crossed and she moaned deeply around him. It sent a spark of pleasure through him that had him almost shake. He did it again, harder this time, and Amara’s reaction was almost as delicious as his own need surging through him. She obviously enjoyed this just as much as he did. When one of her hands slid away from his length to cup his balls, he had to force himself not to thrust into her mouth too harshly. A long groan left his mouth, and he shook his head. “Alright, you made your point,” he got out with quite some effort. “Stop.”

Amara immediately went lax, stopping all she was doing, and he carefully pulled out of her mouth. He could see she was out of breath, but her face was still eager. Her pulled her up gently, giving in to his desire to kiss her still glistening wet lips. Her tongue was as eager in her mouth as it had been around his shaft, their moans mixing together as he crowded her against the table again.

“Bull,” she almost whispered against him. “Please Bull, no more games, not now.”

Hearing her plea, her voice shaken by her need for him might just have been the sweetest sound he had ever heard. As much as he liked to be in control, he had to admit to himself at this moment that he would probably give her everything she ever wanted, just to hear that voice again, to have her look at him like she was looking at him now - completely open, with nothing between them but their mutual desire.

“No more games,” he agreed before he kissed her again. They had drawn this out long enough. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed her and lifted her back onto the war table. This time, her arms were slung tightly around his neck, and she had spread her legs out on her own, immediately urging him closer. With both their patience long gone, he let himself slide inside her.

Amara had been holding her breath as she felt his length at her entrance, her lips stilling against his for a moment as she felt him push inside her. He wasn’t taking it slow anymore, and the first stretch of him entering her caused her eyes to flutter. She reached behind her with one hand, trying to steady herself, knocking over several items on the table and not finding it in herself to care. Bull had started to move, thrusting inside her with long, powerful moves that had her mind reeling. He felt so incredibly strong against her, and yet she knew that he was still holding back, knowing somehow exactly how much she could take.

Briefly, she wondered what it would look like if he would let go completely, but that thought flew out of her head when she felt his hand between her legs. His lips had left hers only to close around the tip of her breast a moment later and Amara felt like she was on fire. She felt his teeth around her nipple, just on the brink of becoming painful before he soothed over the pain with a swirl of his tongue. He knew just where, just how to touch her to make her brain shut down and her body ready to explode. She couldn’t stop herself from digging her nails into his shoulder the next time she felt his teeth, and she realized that she definitely wasn’t the only one who enjoyed a not so gentle touch now and then when he moaned against her skin and upped his pace. She did it again, scratching over his skin deliberately when he repeated his teasing on her other breast, and for a moment, she felt him go almost rigid underneath her. With a noise that was almost a roar his hold on her tightened as he slammed into her, and she felt his release, his hand between her legs making sure that she toppled over the edge along with him. Her cry of pleasure was swallowed by his mouth, kissing her deeply until the last shudder of pleasure was ebbing through her.

It  suddenly felt very quiet around them, their heavy breaths sounding almost obscenely loud to Amara’s ears. She shifted slightly, her hand almost losing purchase and slipping on a piece of paper. For a moment, she froze. Amara had almost forgotten where they were, and she swallowed. She was naked, on the war table, Bull half on top of her, surrounded by maps and reports. She would never be able to look at the damn thing without thinking about this again. Looking at Bull, she saw that he knew exactly what she was thinking, realizing that that had probably been at least part of his reason for doing this. She laughed. “Next time I have to work here will be absolute torture.”

Bull again had this devious glint in his eye. “I know,” was his smug reply. “Had to make sure you never forget an appointment we had again, didn’t I?”


	7. Out of the shadows and into the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?” she asked. “Why is this funny?”  
> “Oh no, it’s not that.” With a raised hand, Dorian appeased her. “It is just… trust the Iron Bull to give you a piece of clothing that is about 30% cloth and 70% made out of rope and knots.”

Their next scouting trip to clear out the immediate area and make them safer for their regular soldiers was only a little over a week later. Yet somehow, that week had changed so many things for Amara that she still had trouble catching up sometimes. Since that night, Bull had stayed with her or she with him every evening. They talked, just enjoying the closeness between them some nights, and Amara marvelled at how calm and peaceful she felt. Other nights, there was not much talking at all happening, and the intensity of those nights almost took her breath away. A thing both had in common, though, was that she usually fell asleep in Bull’s arms and somehow stayed that way until the next morning. It had taken only a few days until the people around her started to notice the change. For the first time in forever Amara felt actually awake in the mornings, and the look of surprise on her advisor’s faces when she had been on time for meetings and in a good mood had been priceless. The genuine look of relief on Lyssa’s face on the other hand had almost had the effect of a cold shower for Amara. It had taken her a couple of days to actually see just how worried her friend must have been for her. Another long talk with Bull had her realize that her way of avoiding everything had probably not been easy to deal with for those close to her, and she vowed to make time to talk to Lyssa about it as soon as possible.

Sera actually whistled at her when she met up with them at the main gate, and Amara couldn't stop the wide grin on her face even if she had wanted to. The sun on her skin and slight wind in her hair felt like a confirmation of her already good mood this morning. Dorian and Vivienne meanwhile seemed not entirely sure what they were even looking at.

“What an unusual, yet on you oddly charming looking attire.” Amara knew Vivienne well enough to accept this as the compliment that it was meant to be.

“Isn’t it nice? It’s what some Qunari wear apparently. Bull got it for me,” she explained happily, doing a little twirl.

“Did he now?” Dorian asked. “I am sure with absolutely no selfish motivations behind it.” His smirk let her know where his mind went immediately, and she saw no point in even trying to pretend like he were spot on with his observation.

“Well,” she winked at him, “it certainly has several uses.”

Vivienne coughed politely. “My dear, while it is certainly very becoming on you, I can’t help but notice that it might not be entirely practical?”

Amara just shrugged. “You’re probably right. But I look rather good in it, don’t I? And I would say it is about as practical for travelling through the Hinterlands as, oh I don’t know, a brocade and silk coat perhaps?”

For a short moment, everything was silent before Vivienne let out a rare and hearty laugh. “Very well, I cannot disagree there.”

“Sometimes looking good feels better than being practical,” Amara concluded.

“Indeed. And it gives you a different sort of strength and power.” It was moments like these when she and Vivienne, despite all their differences, felt like genuine friends.

“What I wanna know,” Sera was poking at some of the knots on Amara’s arm, “is how complicated is this thing to put on, really?”

Dorian, who had just been inspecting the complicated pattern on her back, seemed to agree. “This does look rather complex.”

Amara hoped that the sudden flush going through her didn’t look as obvious as it felt to her. “Well, it is. Bull helped me put it on,” she admitted.

Raised eyebrows around her were accompanied by knowing grins. “Given that you came out of your room dressed like this I’d say good for you!” Dorian winked at her.

Sera slapped her on the back enthusiastically. “Ha, I knew it! Knots! Krem owes me a whole keg of ale!”

Vivienne didn’t say anything, but she didn’t look like she disapproved and that was enough to set Amara at ease. Dorian still looked her up and down before he shook his head in quiet laughter, and Amara blinked at him in confusion.

“What?” she asked. “Why is this funny?”

“Oh no, it’s not that.” With a raised hand, Dorian appeased her. “It is just… trust the Iron Bull to give you a piece of clothing that is about 30% cloth and 70% made out of rope and knots.”

Amara’s blush deepened. Vivienne rolled her eyes, but she was certainly hiding the beginning of a sly smile while Sera just broke out into roaring laughter.

“Oh Andraste’s tits, he did, didn’t he? And he helped you put it on…” She elbowed Dorian in the side in her excitement. “You could say he ‘showed her the ropes’ if you get what I mean!” She had the usual satisfied look on her face she made when she was really proud of one of her jokes.

“My dear, I think everyone got what you meant, even if some of us would have rather not.”

Amara couldn’t help but secretly agree with Vivienne. As confident as she usually was in her relationships and her openness about literally anything related to the bedroom, Dorian’s remark had managed to make her slightly embarrassed. Something about this felt oddly personal. Not in a negative way, but definitely in a way she had not considered before. As much as she was at ease by now about everything physical in her relationship, she couldn’t help but still feel uneasy about the more emotional side. And while she had certainly gained quite a bit of confidence already in the past few days, it was, after all, still a very new situation.

She was more than grateful that everyone seemed to have gotten over their smug remarks by the time that Bull and the rest of their group showed up to join them for their supply trip. It was a sunny day, and everyone seemed to be in great spirits. Much to Amara’s disadvantage, it would seem. She had almost forgotten about the earlier teasing, enjoying some casual road conversation with Bull when Dorian walked up next to her.

“So, Inquisitor. Must be nice to get to go on a field trip after being all tied up in your responsibilities lately, huh?” His face was the very picture of innocence as he smiled his usual winning smile at her. She heard a soft snickering somewhere behind her, but she chose to ignore it.

“You’ll make her blush Dorian,” Sera piped in. “Don’t put her in a bind here!” The last few words were half mumbled because she was snorting through her nose already while trying to knock Varric into his side with her elbow.

“Oh please,” Varric shook his head. “Do you really need to rope me into this as well?” He rolled his eyes but there was definitely a wink towards Sera going on who in turn started chuckling even harder.

“Who knows, if we keep this up long enough there might be some punishment in the future.”

Amara was certain that her face was probably visibly red by now and she was still deliberating if she should say something when Vivienne gave her a sympathetic look. “Darling, I am sorry to say this, but this was definitely bound to happen.”

For a second Amara just looked at her in shock. Even  _ Vivienne _ ? But the mage’s face gave nothing away. Not even the hint of a smile, except for a rather devious sparkle in her eyes, and Amara groaned. A quick glance next to her turned out to be a big mistake. Bull was definitely not going to help her any time soon, given the rather amused and definitely smug expression on his face. She had enough trouble keeping her thoughts on the road and not constantly thinking back on just how exactly they had spent the early morning. Saying that Bull had helped her put it on had definitely been the very abridged version of what happened.

Cole’s voice suddenly came from behind her. “She almost says the word sometimes. Katoh. She tastes it in her mouth, sweet release a breath away, tongue tying it tenderly like you tie her. But she doesn't. For you, and for her, because it makes it mean more. A fuller feeling, a brighter burst.”

The thought that rifts really were never around when one really needed one went through Amara’s head as Bull seemed to take pity on her.

“Yeah,” he coughed and turned towards Cole. “Maybe think how she feels about you saying this in front of everybody?”

Cole didn’t have an immediate answer, but Amara pulled herself together and cleared her throat. “Bull and I are consenting adults, and there's nothing wrong with what we choose to do in bed,” she stated and hoped that this would be it. Naturally everyone around her had other plans.

“Not just in bed. Sometimes it's up against the wall. Once on the war table,” Cole noted with a sense of wonder, and Amara suddenly felt the wish to walk into an ambush. Surely nothing could be actually worse than this!

Sera was almost breaking down with laughter by now. “Hope you took her right up the Dales,” she almost howled while slapping Bull on the back.

Amara groaned again. She felt like she would just have to learn to live with her seemingly now permanent new red skin colour. “If a rift opened up right now and swallowed me, I'd be absolutely fine with that.” She didn’t think she had ever been this embarrassed by something. And again, she found she was wrong when Solas decided to join in.

“Provided it tied you down first, one assumed.” There was an unusual amount of mirth in his tone and Amara snapped.

“Corypheus!” Amara started yelling over the now loudly laughing Iron Bull next to her. “Where the fuck are you?I I am ready to end this right now!”


	8. In whom we trust if not ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could see the conflict in him brewing. “You have me,” she whispered. “And you have yourself.”

Closing rifts had been one of their main objectives whenever they were outside of Skyhold, since the moment Amara and Lyssa had found out about their ability to do so. Some of them were almost abandoned, easy to deal with and almost as quickly forgotten again. Others meanwhile seemed to house something akin to a small army. The trouble with rifts was that one could never tell which variety was in front of them at any particular moment. 

It was the third rift they had stumbled upon on their way back to Skyhold. Having split up on the way back to get several things done at the same time, their now considerably smaller group had taken much longer than anticipated. They were so close to the fortress that Amara could almost smell the food from the kitchens in her mind. Everyone in their small party had been ready to call it a day three hours and two rifts ago already. Now, they were almost dead on their feet, but duty called again. In hindsight they probably should have gotten reinforcements from Skyhold, but after the two very minor rifts no one had given it any thought. Half an hour later and still knee deep in demons, Amara realised what a mistake that had been. Varric and The Iron Bull had done a good job keeping the two Pride Demons occupied while Amara handled the smaller threats first. When she had begun to think about Rage Demons as  _ smaller threats, _ she could not even say anymore. 

Vivienne meanwhile did her best to alternate between shielding Bull from taking too much damage and keeping both Varric and Amara away from harm, looking almost unfairly elegant for being on a battlefield. But Amara could see the strain in her posture, the slight shake of her arms when casting. Just as she could see Varric swaying back just a little bit further than normal as he sidestepped one of the demons that got through to him. She felt her own fingers starting to feel stiff in her iron grip on her knives. She could see Bull out of the corner of her eyes, laying down controlled and precise swings of his axe. It almost looked like a sort of elaborate dance. Much like when they were training, she knew where he would step next, how he would swing next. As the Demon in front of her finally dematerialised, she blinked. Something was off. It took her only a second to realise what. She could anticipate his moves in training because he let her, because he showed her what he was doing next, so she could learn to react. She shouldn’t be able to do the same thing in a real fight. Especially not with his particular fighting style. Where he normally deliberately took a hit every now and then, relying on the blood and pain to fuel him on, he looked almost careful in his movements now.

Just when all those thoughts raced through her head, Vivienne seemed to draw on all her leftover energy. A shiver went over Amara’s back as she felt the air around them getting cold, and the Demons in front of her starting to freeze into place. 

“Do finish this up, please!” came Viv’s voice from behind her, her usual poise stained with obvious exhaustion. Luckily, all three of them reacted instantly, bringing their weapons down with all the strength they had left. Or at least Varric and Amara did. Bull did enough to shatter the Demon in front of him, but Amara could see just how much he was holding back, and a suspicion as to why began to grow in her. They had talked about his particular brand of fighting before. He had told her about all the gory details of being a Reaver when she had asked about it after a particularly gruesome fight through the Fallow Mire. The rush of battle, the frenzy, the bloodlust, and most of all, how the Qun helped him reign himself back in. Now the Qun was gone from his life, and even though Amara was more than certain that it had been mostly his own strength of will that had kept him stable, it seemed obvious he didn’t fully share her assessment.

She spent the rest of their journey home deep in thought. There had been something else she had noticed before but paid it no further attention. Because she hadn’t been certain about what she felt. After all, everything about their relationship was still new and full of untested waters, despite their closeness. Ever since their relationship had started to become physical, there had been this sense of composure about him. While he frequently made her lose herself in the sensations of what they did together, he never seemed to let go completely. At first she had thought it might have been her imagination. Then, that it might simply be the way he was when it came to sex. But now she had seen him exert the same composure, the same way of holding himself back in battle where she knew from experience that it wasn’t how he usually fought. When she thought back to other battles they had been in together, she could clearly see and say that she was certain that what she saw today wasn’t even a way he actually wanted to fight. She had seen him up and close when he had thrown himself into battle and enjoyed every second of it. It had looked very different from today.

It wasn’t until later that night when they were back in Skyhold, safe and sound, retreating to her room after a couple of drinks with the Chargers that she thought about bringing it up. Amara had almost forgotten about it already when Bull locked the door behind them. Her lips were still pleasantly tingling from the way he had kissed her on their way up. But the thoughts persisted, and she found herself looking at him thoughtfully. It only took him a moment to sense that something was up.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, straight to the point. He had never believed in beating around the bush, and Amara decided to take a page out of his book.

“Bull, why do you fight differently?”

He didn’t immediately answer, and Amara could see that her question surprised him. “You noticed,” came his simple reply after a while.

He was obviously not happy to talk about this, but he also made no effort of denying it.

“Of course I did. I think I kind of know you by now.” Amara tried to sound lighthearted, but it wasn’t very convincing even to herself.

“You do,” Bull agreed with barely a hint of a smile. “But then you also know why.” There was something in his expression she hadn't seen before. Resignation? That would just not do.

“I suspect I do, yes. But you know how I think about that already.”

Bull looked at her fondly, but there was an underlying hint of the same resignation behind it.“You do have a better opinion of me than I have Mara, I know.”

For a brief moment Amara wanted to yell out in frustration. They had talked about so many things. Openly, and without ever really disagreeing on too many points. But this one thing remained a topic which made her want to shake some sense into him. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did he have all the faith in the world in her and left none of it for himself? She took a calming deep breath. It would do no good to repeat the same arguments they had already had. 

“It’s not just in battle though, right?” she finally asked. Before he could voice a question, she gestured between them. “I mean, it’s also this. Us. Together. You are always so careful with me. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your thoughtfulness. And your care. Being with you those last few weeks has been beyond everything I ever imagined. But I feel like sometimes, I can tell you don’t let yourself get too much into whatever we are doing. And I worry…” she finally trailed off, unable to voice what she was thinking.

“That I am not enjoying this? Us?” His expression made it clear just how ridiculous he felt that thought was.

“Somewhat. Not entirely. You are not  _ letting  _ yourself enjoy it fully. It’s like…” she searched for an image that would let her explain what she meant better. “Like when you are riding a horse.” Bull gave her a look that made her instantly regret the analogy she had gone for.

“Shut up,” she said with a small laugh. “I know, not the best way to put this, but I’m sticking with it! It’s like, spurring the horse on but never actually letting it go into galloping at full speed.”

Bull shook his head, actual amusement now in his eye. “Just so we are clear, when you say riding a horse you mean sex…”

Amara nodded. 

“And you thought this would be a good way of describing what you meant, a way we could sit through with a serious face? Comparing me to a stallion that just needs to… how did you put it?  _ Gallop at full speed _ ?” 

Amara laughed as she felt her cheeks go red. “Alright, maybe I am not that good with words, but to be fair you actually asked me to, how did you put it?  _ Ride the bull? _ ”

“Fair point…” Bull chuckled bevor his face got serious again. “I know what you are trying to say, though.” He sighed. “”And you are not entirely wrong, but…”

When he didn’t continue, Amara moved towards him.

“You are afraid of letting yourself go. Afraid you might scare me, or hurt me,” she stated plainly and the slight tension in his shoulders confirmed her thoughts almost instantly.

“Of course I am,” he said just a tad sharper than he probably intended. “Amara, you’ve been hurt before, and I would never want to be a person who adds to that.”

“You wouldn’t!” she insisted, searching his face until he was looking her in the eyes. 

“I might.”

“Do you think me so easily broken?” She stepped closer until they almost touched, raising one hand to his face and tracing it along his jaw. She could feel him shiver under her touch, could see the desire in his gaze.

“You don’t understand,” he managed to say between clenched teeth. “When I let go, I lose myself. And until a short while ago I always had the Qun to pull myself back. Now I have nothing. Nothing I can use to stop myself from going to far.”

She could see the conflict in him brewing. “You have me,” she whispered. “And you have yourself.” Amara pressed herself closer, rising up on her toes until her lips came close to his. “I trust you. Not because of some dogma or some beliefs you hold, but because you are you. You would never do anything to me that I wouldn’t want. And not because of what the Qun taught you. You wouldn't, because that is who you are.”

She could feel his sharp intake of breath just before her lips touched his. The kiss was more tentative than any other they had shared before, a subtle press of lips against each other, moving gently, almost carefully against each other. In a way it felt more like a first kiss than their actual first kiss, but the hesitation only lasted a moment before she felt him pull her closer, deepening the kiss with a fire that made her shudder. When they finally parted again, there was so much want on his face that it almost took her breath away.

“Your watchword,” he growled lowly. “Promise me, Amara. Promise me you will use it if you need me to stop.”

“I will,” she assured him as her hands were already getting busy with the leather strap across his chest. “I want you to promise me something in return though.”

“Anything.”

“If I don’t say it, you don’t stop!”

Her words seemed to have sparked something within him, and with a snarl he pushed her backwards until they hit the wall. With one swift move he grabbed one of her legs, pushing her up until she was at a comfortable height to kiss again. Amara tried to get her legs around him properly, but the force with which he pressed into her left her almost unable to move. Not for the first time in their relationship, he held her up like she weighed absolutely nothing, and she felt heat pooling in her stomach at the thought of just how physically strong he really was. She grabbed the nearest part of him she could reach, one of his horns, and pulled sharply until their mouths crashed together again. A small sting and she could taste the faint but familiar copper taste of blood in her mouth. Amara could pinpoint the exact moment when Bull tasted it too, and his moan turned into something almost like a roar just before he began getting rid of her shirt. She wasn’t sure if he ripped it apart or pulled it off her in one piece, but after a flurry of motion her bare back hit the wall again, hoisted up even higher than before as Bull’s lips closed around the tip of her breast. The stubble of his beard scratched over her skin as he teased her mercilessly with both lips and teeth, making her shiver with want against him. 

One of his hands worked her pants open. Moments later, the sounds of ripping cloth didn’t even register with her anymore. All that was important was that the clothes were finally gone by the time he had flipped them around and pushed her onto the bed. With a sharp tug at her hips Amara was sprawled out under him, his large hand tangling itself through her hair, pulling her head back. Not gently, she could feel the slight sting on her scalp as his mouth was back on her breasts, small and sharp bites alternating with delicious licks. His hands felt like they were everywhere at once as he swallowed her moan with another deep kiss. She could feel his hardness trapped between them as he started to kiss down her throat, teeth scraping over sensitive skin. Amara pressed closer against him, moving slightly into him, edging him on. 

His hands held her just a little firmer than usual, his teasing mouth a bit rougher than she knew him to be, only to soothe over every bit of pain with even sweeter pleasure. Rough, dull ache and then relief until Amara’s head started swimming, and she was grinding her hips against him as best as possible, moaning and writhing underneath him. Trying to spur him on into giving her more.

Suddenly her skin felt empty as Bull moved and with another sharp tug a her legs she found herself almost folded in half. He had pulled up her wrists together, holding both of them effortlessly in one of his hands as he shifted her around until he had her hands secured tightly between her back and the mattress. Amara arched her back and felt her muscles complain against the unusual stretch, but all thoughts about it left her mind the instant she felt him move her legs over his shoulders holding part of her up in mid air. His head was between her thighs as he devoured her like someone who had been starving for just a taste of her. His tongue had found her sweet spot almost instantly, lapping and sucking, twirling around her while his free hand was on her ass, fingers digging into muscles, pulling her closer. It was almost too much, too fast for her, and Amara felt herself shake from the stretch on her back. His tongue was just a little too direct, but he held her so tightly she couldn’t even think about wriggeling away. Despite the strain it was still embarrassingly quick that she felt the pleasure in herself building up, getting ready to burst. Bull was relentless in his ministrations, his hand slipping lower as his fingers slipped through her folds and into wet heat without any resistance. Amara let out a sharp cry as she felt her release starting. Like a fire sweeping through her entire body, it exploded behind her closed eyes. Bull was kissing the inside of her thighs, still holding her tight as she came down and tried to catch her breath. 

“Bull, that was…” she started, but he obviously wasn’t done with her and not willing to indulge her afterglow for the moment. Quickly, he laid her back down and moved off her to pull a string of rope from the bedside table. Without much ceremony he had it looped neatly around one of her arms even before her slightly dazed mind could follow completely.

“Up on you knees, Mara.” There was a slight edge to his voice, and Amara found herself obeying almost instantly. With a strong hand he moved her into the position he wanted, wrapping the rope around her other arm and pulling them together in front of her. Briefly, Amara thought back on to their first night together, to the first time he had restrained her movement, and the memory sent a shiver of anticipation through her. 

Bull pulled her back until she felt the heat from his skin at her back, his arms sneaking around her, hands cupping her breasts. 

“Damn Mara, you look so good tied up.” His voice was rough and hot against her ear as one of his hands trailed down in between her legs, teasing her still over-sensitive parts lightly before he pushed her forward and down into the mattress. With a practiced move he looped the remaining rope through the rails of the headboard and pulled her arms up until her fingers could touch the wood. 

“You might want to hold on to this,” came his voice, full of promise. Before she could ask what he was planning to do, she felt her lower body getting lifted up until she could bring her knees beneath her. Bull let his hands wander along her arching back, resting on her raised hips with a deft grip.

She could feel his groan almost rumble through her entire being as he pushed inside of her. Despite his earlier ministrations she felt the stretch of him. She always did. His first thrust was slow, but the grip of his fingers, digging harshly into her hips, betrayed the tension behind it. Amara still felt overly sensitive, unconsciously clenching around him as he entered her, and it was almost like she could feel him snap. With a sound that she could only describe as pure need, Bull started pushing into her. A quick glance over her shoulder showed her a magnificent sight. She had to twist her head into an almost uncomfortable position to see him, but the pure look of want on his face sent another spark of heat through her. She had seen him enjoy himself in bed with her before, but never quite like this. Never this unabashed. Never this uncontrolled.

“Katoh.”

He froze instantly, hands losing their strong hold on her, roaming carefully over her back as he pulled away from her enough to carefully turn her around to face him. 

“Are you alright?” Bull was still breathing harshly, but he was carefully listening and checking for any signs of what was wrong.

“You stopped,” Amara breathed with a smile on her face and was met with an almost puzzled and slightly concerned-looking Bull.

“You were doubting that I could?”

“No, never,” Amara shook her head. “I know that you always will.” She paused, her eyes searching his. “And now you know it, too.”

For a moment, Bull just looked at her, stunned into silence before his face twitched with emotion. His large body covered hers, gently this time, as he kissed her. It was less urgent than the kisses they had shared earlier, but the emotion behind it made Amara sigh in pleasure just the same. He held her face in his hands as their lips parted, looking at her like she was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen.

“Thank you!”

His voice was quiet but full of more, yet unspoken emotions, and Amara found herself straining to kiss him again. She could feel his hands around hers, tugging at the ropes around her wrists until they were loose. Fingers tracing where the rope had been on her wrists before, he pulled her hands down with him. When she touched his face gently, he sighed. Her fingers slid over his skin, and she spread her legs, her thigh coming around his waist, quietly urging him on to continue where they had left off. When he slid into her again, it was unhurried but no less intense. Bull’s movements were slow, but full of purpose. One of his hands found hers, intertwining their fingers into the sheets next to her head as he kept kissing her over and over again. His other hand found its way between them, gentle strokes and flickering touches working her up in time with his languid thrusts. All the pressing urgency from before had gone and left behind a different kind of heat. The air around them was heavy with emotion. Amara had never in her life felt so full. Full of him, of pleasure, of a sense of belonging, full of her feelings for him. It was an exhilarating combination, and from the way he was looking at her she was beyond certain he felt something similar.

She had lost all sense of time, basking in the sensations running through her body when she suddenly tensed up, pleasure running through her almost unexpectedly. It wasn’t like the explosive feeling earlier, more like a steady and strong current that flowed through her, seemingly endless in its ripples. She couldn't speak, all she could do was moan into his kisses as she felt him shudder and tense within her, riding out their shared pleasure together.


	9. Penumbra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you were still Qunari, would any of this have happened?”

It wasn’t until much later that night, when they laid still pressed close together, skin to skin, under the cover of darkness that Amara looked up at him, illuminated only by the faint light of the single still burning candle that was almost at the end of its lifetime.

“Bull?” Amara’s voice was soft, but in the nearly complete darkness of the nightly quiet in her bedroom even that seemed almost too loud. An equally soft grunt let her know that he was still listening, even on the brink of falling asleep. For a brief moment, she hesitated to say what was on her mind. It was late, she had to be up early in the morning. No need to start an entire conversation right in this moment. Just as she was about to just let it go and close her eyes, she felt him move. His arm shifted slightly underneath her head as his face turned towards her as much as his horns allowed him to in their position.

“Just say what’s on your mind, Mara,” he mumbled, a hint of sleepiness in his voice.

“It’s nothing important,” she assured him. “Another time, just go to sleep.” She could feel a huff coming from Bull as he moved again, this time into a slightly more upright position.

“You always say that when something is on your mind. And then you are restless until you have to get up in the morning.” His voice was warm and filled with a hint of amusement, something Amara was growing quite accustomed to these days. It had been unnerving at first, the feeling that he could read her like an open book. It had sent her running and hiding in the beginning, sometimes even making her feel like she had to go on the offense. The idea of someone seeing right through her, noticing all the small bits and pieces of herself she had worked so hard to conceal or in some cases even ignore herself had been terrifying and uncomfortable. That it had seemed like he was doing it almost effortlessly only amplified her discomfort. Those first few days navigating around each other after they had started their relationship had never been confrontational, but there had been a constant push and pull nonetheless. From both of them. 

It had taken Amara a while to see it, but when she finally did, she felt almost stupid as things fell into place right in front of her. She had tried so hard to make sense of everything. Of how she felt about Bull. How easy they had fallen into a friendship, long before anything physical had ever happened between them. He had barely even touched her outside of some training exercises and in support during actual combat, yet there had been a kind of intimacy to their interactions, their talks and even their joking around with each other that had always thrown Amara a bit for a loop. Both for being there in the first place, and especially for making it so incredibly easy to talk and relate to someone so vastly different from her. The first time they had met had been the first time for her meeting a Qunari in her life. Everything she had known about them had only been from stories. Stories most likely told from very biased sources as she had learned quickly. But back then, The Iron Bull had seemed to be from a completely different world. Not someone whom she expected to have things in common with. The warning words of her advisors had been ringing in her ears every time she had talked to him in the beginning. It had taken her remarkably little time to see that they were not so different at all. Part of the reason why she had let him into her life so easily, why being around him had made it so easy for her to open up to someone, and especially why it seemed so easy for him to understand the more guarded parts of her, had been because they were not opposites of another at all. 

Amara had met spies before. She had worked both knowingly and sometimes unknowingly with them and there had always been one thing they had all in common, especially in retrospect: Each of them had given her a feeling of uneasiness, keeping her on her guard at all times, always being hyper-aware of everything she herself let show. She noticed everything they said, what they did or how they looked at things and moved them around to their liking, what they deliberately weren’t looking at, and so many more tiny hints of who they were. Everybody had their tells, their small glimpses into their true self.

Bull, though? He seemed to have almost none of that. From the very beginning, he had been disarmingly open. Amara had never possessed Lyssa’s ability to read people instinctively, a lack of skill that had cost her dearly in her past. But no matter how hard it had been for her to determine people’s motivations, there had been one thing that she had learned well through all that she had been through, and that was listening to the uneasy feeling she got when someone wasn’t honest with her.

Against all expectations, that feeling never appeared with Bull. 

She had not been surprised that he had been a good listener. She would have found it rather odd if he hadn’t been in his profession. What she had not anticipated had been how charmingly honest he was. From the moment he had straight up told her who he was to evenings they had spent around a fire, talking about everything and nothing. She had been so on guard, ready to register all those small lies he would inevitably tell. Looking for all the hints about him to get a clear picture of who he might be behind his spy persona, only to find… nothing.

For a while, she had entertained the idea that he had told her he was a spy simply because he was one of the worst spies there ever was. That thought left her almost as quickly as it had come. It had become quite obvious that, if anything, the exact opposite had been the more likely explanation. The day she realised that he was probably way better at this than anyone else she had ever met should have been it, really. The most sane and safe option would have been to stay away from him at all costs, but something in her had been too intrigued, too interested already to even consider that a valid option. For a time, she had considered at least telling someone else close to her, Lyssa, or maybe Cassandra about all these thoughts. They would have made sure to keep her away from her own curiosity. Looking back, she did not regret her choice at all, even though it had probably been a very reckless one back then. 

Something about The Iron Bull had pulled her in, made her unable to put her usual self-preservation above anything else. They had quickly become friends, and before she could even think too deeply about it, she had found herself in a situation where she had let her guard down. Unknowingly at first. Realising only after a few shared evenings filled with conversations and laughter that she had let things slip, unknowingly told him things she usually kept to herself. Like that night in the tavern where he had figured her out so easily. She had been terrified about how well he had read her and almost angry at herself for just how much she had let her guard down around someone else.

“Amara?” Bull was sitting up against the headboard now, one arm still around her as she stared into the dark of the bedroom, occupied by thoughts of that one particular evening a few weeks ago. His voice pulled her mind out of the fog of memories and back into the present. The candle had finally given up, and her bedroom was almost completely dark now. 

“I’m sorry, I got distracted.” With a small sigh she shuffled closer to him, letting her head rest on his chest as she felt his calm breathing underneath her. For a while she was deliberating how to say what she wanted to say. To ask what was on her mind. Bull was waiting patiently, knowing just how important it sometimes was for her to make sure she had the right words for her thoughts. When she was finally ready to talk, her voice was soft, barely audible, but he could hear her just fine when she asked him the question he had expected for a while. 

“If you were still Qunari, would any of this have happened?” 

A simple question. It had a simple answer on the surface but came with so many additions and uncomfortable thoughts that he didn’t immediately answer. For the first time since he had gotten to know Amara, he considered the possibility of lying to her. Deep down he knew that he would not, but still, just entertaining the thought was more tempting than he would have expected. But if there was a single thing he would say was the foundation of their entire relationship, it would be complete and unflinching honesty.

The irony of that fact wasn’t lost on him. He had never once lied to her. That the thought had even entered his mind was an indicator of just how uncomfortable the answer and its implications made him. And how lucky he had been so far that she had never asked him anything remotely like this before. 

They had spoken about what being Qunari meant in an abstract way. Way back, when they had just gotten to know each other. They had also talked about his new status, and what it meant for him more often lately. 

But this?

This ventured into the part of him having been Qunari that he was most conflicted about. That he tried to forget the most. He was well aware that Amara was still waiting for an answer. He saw no other option really than to face this the way he faced most things that might instill some form of fear into him: Charge right in and figure out what to do along the way.

“Yes,” he said finally. “And no.” He sighed. “Not like this.” He could feel a light movement against him and he a moment later he could practically hear the frown in her voice.

“By all means, please don’t be too vague or anything,” she teased, but there was no heat behind her words, only a sense of curiosity. Before he could reply, she lifted her head, obviously looking up at him, even though he could barely make out her face in the dark.

“I had been flirting with you for months,” she stated, obviously realising something just right in that moment. “But you really only reacted after you left the Qun. You flat out pretended like you didn’t hear me most of the time before. Even that night right before this all happened, when we were alone at camp and talked until the sun went up again, remember?”

He didn’t have to. It was a night he could never forget, not even for a moment.

“There was something, that night. And all the other times before as well, but in that night I could see it so clearly,” Amara went on. “You looked at me like you were going to kiss me. Like you wanted…” Her voice trailed off.

Bull snorted. “Oh believe me, I wanted,” he said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically sharp. “I wanted you from the moment I first saw you at the Storm Coast.” He could hear her gasp quietly.

“You did?” There was no mistaking the tone of her voice for anything but genuine surprise. 

“Of course I did,” he replied, somewhat perplexed by her reaction. “You were drenched in rain, had a smear of blood on your right cheek and such determination burning in your eyes… I would have to have been blind and deaf and probably dead on top of it to not have been immediately intrigued by you.”

A swat on his arm was her next reply. “You complete asshole!” The insult still lacked real heat but he could hear that Amara meant it at least in parts. “Do you have any idea how much time I spent questioning myself over this? How much I doubted my own perception, how often I wondered if you were simply ignoring me, or maybe didn’t actually even see my attempts at flirting as such? How many times I wondered what it would take to make you see me as someone you might be interested in?” He could feel her hair brush over his skin as she shook her head. “What was it then? Was there some Qunari rule against this that I didn’t know about?”

He kept looking in her direction, hoping his eye would get used to the night enough to see her face even a little bit better, but the closed blinds kept even the faintest moonlight out.

“No,” he simply replied. “On the contrary, actually.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He sighed. This was it. The conversation he never wanted to have, but that they had to get through at some point.

“It means, if I had been a better Qunari when we met, I would have gotten you into bed at the first good opportunity. Like I was ordered to.”

Amara wasn’t sure if she was glad for the darkness that hid the shock on her face or if she wanted to light another candle so she could see Bull better.

“What?” was all she got out when she found her voice. Just when she thought she had him mostly figured out. She tried to wrap her head around the fact that the Qunari had sent him here specifically to… seduce her? Get under her skin? Suddenly she felt very stupid for never having thought about this before. He had been a spy sent to infiltrate a large organisation - it was only logical that he had been sent to influence as well and not just observe. For a moment, she felt anger welling up inside of her. Bull and their relationship had been the best thing that had happened to her in what felt like almost forever. And it was all because of what? Because he had been sent here to manipulate her? But her anger simmered down again as quickly as it had risen when she realised the most important part about all of this.

He hadn’t.

Bull had been quiet, not saying anything as he felt Amara tense next to him. He knew her well enough to know she probably needed a few moments to wrap her head around what he just told her. 

“I had always thought…” Her soft voice almost startled him. She seemed to look for the right words again.

“Always thought what?” he asked curiously.

“When you were struggling with so much after leaving the Qun,” she started again, “remember how I told you that you hadn’t really acted and lived like a Qunari for a long time?”

He did. It had been something of a wake-up call to him when she had pointed that out. “I remember.” He felt Amara’s head settling down on his chest again, her fingers calmly tracing some sort of pattern over his skin.

“I meant it back then,” she went on quietly. “But I had no idea just how long and how much you had already turned away from the Qun.”

Part of him wasn’t at all surprised by the way Amara was looking at this. It was just like her to find sense in something that he himself still struggled with. Sometimes he had the suspicion she understood parts of him better than he did himself. 

“Not consciously,” he admitted. It would have been all too easy to twist this into a story about how he had always known he would love her deep inside, and how he would choose this better version of himself, his freedom and her over the Qun when it came down to it. It had a nice ring to it. But he knew it would have been a lie and Amara would have known it too. He still wasn’t sure if he could have ever made that choice. She had been right when she had accused him of pushing that choice onto her, back when the decision had been between the Qunari and the Chargers. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Amara insisted. “Consciously or not, that was still you that felt it was the right thing to do. Long before you actually left the Qun.”

Bull shook his head, knowing she could feel his movements under her. 

“I am still not sure if I ever could have left on my own,” he said slowly. “I didn’t leave the Qun, Mara. You pulled me out of it.” 

“I pulled you out?” she asked, sounding uncertain. This was certainly a perspective she hadn’t heard from him before. His arm around her held her just a little bit closer as he spoke.

“You did. And I am grateful for it. I guess, in a way, leaving the Qun was inevitable.” The way he said it was so matter-of-fact-like that Amara didn’t know what to say about that.

“Because under the Qun, I would have never let myself love you,” the words fell from his lips with such an ease that Amara realised that this was probably not the first time he had thought this. 

“And it took me a while away from it to realise that that was something I wanted all along.”


	10. How to stop falling (without hitting the ground)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sliver of fear shot through her mind. Had she been wrong? Had she caused this with her decision and her following insistence that it would all work out?

Pride demons. Of course it had to be pride demons. Again. Not for the first time, Amara felt like the Fade was playing some elaborate joke on her. That, or she definitely had the worst luck in all of Thedas. 

Whenever they went out to specifically close rifts, stabilise an area for their troops to set up in, or for gaining the favour of potential allies, they moved out with a larger group, just to be on the safe side. The last three or four missions like that had each been like a calm afternoon stroll. Nothing out of the ordinary, their work had been done quickly and efficiently each time. The maximum trouble a rift had given them was when it was located near a waterfall, and Amara had almost slipped on a wet stone while trying to close it. Landing butt-first in shallow water would have been embarrassing, but at least it would not have been dangerous to anyone except her own pride. 

This time, the mission had not been different. They went in, did what they came for, and afterwards split up, some of their group set on travelling further to Redcliffe after being almost halfway there already. Their now significantly smaller traveling party only consisted out of herself, Bull, Cassandra and Vivienne. All of them more than happy so simply return to Skyhold on the quickest way possible.

The small, barely visible rift they encountered on their way back had looked like an easy job. Amara cursed herself for having let herself been lulled into a false sense of security after the previous couple of missions. They had been to easy that she hadn’t paid any mind to the fact that even the smallest rift could tear open into a crescendo of chaos in a heartbeat. None of them had. But Amara felt like she should have known better. 

After fighting off two onslaughts by barely dodging out of the icy grip of several despair demons, she vowed to never, ever say the words  _ “it’s so small, what could happen really?” _ ever again.  _ A lot. _ The answer had definitely been  _ a lot _ ! Just when she thought the worst was behind them, and she got herself ready to seal the damn thing once and for all, a flash of light almost blinded her. Like very slow lightning, the greenish tendrils of rift energy poured out of the tear into the Fade and crept over everything in their way, sizzling over Amara’s skin as they passed through her. For a moment, she felt a little sluggish. As much influence as she had over the energy of those rifts, she had to admit that that energy also had some impact on her, every time. Sometimes, it felt like it was slowly draining her strength. Another time, it managed to make her dizzy enough to have to struggle not to fall over. Sometimes it seemed to speed up everything around her, making her feel disconnected from her own body for a moment.

This time?

It felt like she had been hit by a frost shard, freezing her into place almost completely. 

From the corner of her eyes, she could see that the others at least didn’t seem affected at all. As usual. The weirder aspects of the rift energies seemed to have a penchant for only impacting her or Lyssa, drawn to the mark on their hands like a magnet. 

What Amara saw when the light died down again could have frozen her in her tracks all over again. The once tiny rift looked like it had been torn open, a hole in reality, looking like the Maker himself had ripped the world apart.

And out of it they came.

Demons. Pride Demons.

Amara counted four of them, rapidly moving towards them, towards  _ her _ . Panic welled up in her when she did her best to run, to dodge or simply throw herself out of the way, but her body refused to move. The effects of the rift energy were already lessening, but her legs and arms felt like someone had put her into an armour made of lead. 

A powerful burst of pure ice shot past her. Vivienne had hit at least two of the demons, not incapacitating them but at least slowing them down. There was shouting behind her, but Amara couldn’t make out any words, locked in a desperate struggle against an unseen force. When her feet finally started moving, her body turning, she realized it was just a tiny bit too late.

She would not get out of their range in time.

It didn’t matter to her reflexes, trying their best anyway. Just as she anticipated to be hit by a bolt of energy, she was shoved out of the way. 

Bull almost sent her flying with how forcefully he had pushed her, but it did the job. With a grunt, Amara hit the ground, rolling further out of reach before jumping to her feet again, the weird Fade effects finally gone, just in time to see Bull getting hit by the brunt of the attack.

The energy that almost looked like lightning slashed deep into his side. To her complete horror, she saw a splatter of blood gushing from the wound. Her own horrified shriek was drowned out by Bull’s almost terrifying roar as he didn’t even pause before he started swinging his axe. 

Amara saw Cassandra charging into the midst of the demons, shield first crashing into the nearest one. The sounds of bones splintering against plated wood were like a wake up call, getting Amara back into the game as she pulled out her knives and started running to flank them. Spikes of ice shot out of the ground wherever the demons stepped, followed by the most precise hailstorm Amara had ever seen. To call Vivienne a force of nature would almost not do her justice, her command of the elements not for the first time being one of the best things Amara could ask for in a battle, when she felt another gust of magic pass her by closely, and her blades started to be lit on fire. Having Vivenne behind her, covering her in a magical barrier, Amara always felt a bit like she could truly be the hero people wanted her to be. The barrier kept the demons’ attacks from hitting her, while the fire amplified the amount of destruction she could cause, making the fight starting to feel like a well choreographed dance. 

A feeling that went away only too soon when their well oiled chain of attacks and defensive maneuvers started to fall apart.

Against one or even two of those demons, their strategy would have worked beautifully. But four? Four proved to be too much harder than they could have anticipated. Amara noticed the barrier getting weaker, not being renewed anymore, when a sharp talon grazed her arm, and she flinched in pain. Cassandra did her best to be as big of a threat, as much of an annoyance to their enemies as possible, but she had trouble keeping all of their attention. Bull was cleaving through them, but even with his strength wielding a two-handed axe was rather slow. At least one of the demons always had enough time to focus on Vivienne or Amara in between, forcing them to be on the move almost constantly, giving them no real chance to establish any tactical positioning.

They simply couldn’t keep up, Amara realized. 

The fight went on. And on.

Amara felt the grip on her daggers slipping more than once, but if it was from the onsetting fatigue or from the blood and ichor around them, she couldn’t say. When they finally got one of the demons down, it had almost been more luck than skill. The massive creature falling had distracted one of the others enough for Amara to use the opportunity and jump on its back. She managed to get in several hits, embedding one dagger deeply into a vulnerable spot on its neck before it threw her off, sending her flying a few meters. The ground she landed on was softer than expected, and Amara thanked whatever little luck they had remaining for that as she scrambled back up.

Now two of the demons were down, one still having one of Amara’s daggers embedded in its neck. She switched to her bow, trying to get behind the other demons as best as possible. But the remaining ones seemed to fight only harder. Like in slow motion, Amara saw the move coming, the demon charging, flinging itself right past Cassandra and crashing into Bull headfirst. She saw Bull’s axe flying as he grabbed the demon by the scaly plates of its head, trying to brace himself against the onslaught. With an awful screeching sound some of the plates broke, leaving the demon to howl, its piercing claws sinking into Bull’s shoulder. Amara was about to get her grappling hook from her belt, ready to fling herself in between them, chances of her actually being helpful be damned, when something shifted. Like a ripple,  _ something _ went through Bull, his face changing into a mask Amara had not seen before. His eye turned almost red, and the snarl that left his mouth sounded like no sound she had heard before as he surged forward, actually bringing the demon to a halt before sending it stumbling. 

There was an aura around Bull that practically screamed danger as he threw himself forward, ripping into the demon with bare hands. For a brief moment, Amara felt like not just her, but Vivienne and Cassandra too were completely still, watching what was happening in a sort of shocked trance. Vivienne snapped out of it first, channeling all her remaining power into a last try to freeze the remaining demon into place. It worked only partly, but it had spurred Cassandra into motion again, pressing forward and keeping it in place. 

Amara’s eyes were still glued to Bull who even seemed to move differently now. Demon blood ran down his hands and arms, his own blood still dripped from his side, and a face that looked almost mad, made him look absolutely terrifying as he left the remains of the third dead demon behind and charged into the last remaining one. Without a shield, he crashed into it with a force that looked almost like it was more painful for him than it would be for the demon. But the pain didn’t seem to bother him, on the contrary, every hit the demon landed seemed to make Bull hit back even harder, every injury he sustained fuelling the frenzy that he was clearly in. 

Cassandra started retreating, her eyes fixed on the fight as she carefully moved around them, falling back in the direction of Amara and Vivienne. It took Amara a moment to realize that Cass was planting herself in between them and the place where Bull was now practically tearing the last demon apart all on his own, with nothing but his hands. 

Amara didn’t lose any time. As soon as she saw Bull was winning the fight, she got into position and started closing the rift. The strange energy running through her made her tremble under the strain of focussing the power of the mark onto its target. When the rift finally snapped close, she let out a sigh of relief. A brief moment, everything was completely quiet around her. It was almost blissful until she realized something. Cassandra was still standing with her back towards Amara, shield raised up, sword drawn, looking more than just ready to pounce.

Cass hadn’t gotten in between them to protect them from the demon.

The thought seemed silly, but Amara knew deep down inside her that it was the truth. 

She had known what Bull was, what he could do - in an abstract way. She had known the name for it, read through the sparse descriptions she had found after sheer endless research in the library. They had been vague. Words like  _ bloodlust, frenzy  _ and _ uncontrollable rage _ had been stuck with her. She had known about all of this. But somehow she hadn’t. Not really. 

“Stand back,” Cassandra called out to the two women behind her, clearly ready for this fight to not be over yet. Dimly, Amara remembered their talks about Cassandra’s family and its age-old connection to everything related to dragons. Cassandra knew more about what being a Reaver entailed from her home than everything Amara had found in the books combined. But even her stories had sounded far less intimidating than the reality looked like. 

Bull didn’t turn around though, still facing the torn remains of the demon that was now lying dead at his feet. Amara could see his shoulders rise in heavy breaths, but otherwise, he was not moving. The lines on his back were rigid and stiff, tense to a point where he looked like he would snap any second now.

This was what had him so worried, she realized. What he had been talking about when he said he had relied on the Qun to help him stay in control. This was the precise thing that she had assured him, convinced him, would not become a problem.

A sliver of fear shot through her mind. Had she been wrong? Had she caused this with her decision and her following insistence that it would all work out?

_ No! _

She shoved those thoughts away instantly. She  _ knew _ him. She had trusted him so far, she would not stop now. 

She let her bow drop into the grass at her feet as she took a slow step forward. “Cass, Vivienne, fall back.” She found her voice remarkably calm. “I got this.”

Cassandra immediately started to protest, but Amara looked right past her. “Fall back, _ now! _ That’s an order.” She could feel both of them hesitate. “Please, trust me on this. I know what I am doing!”

Amara surprised herself by just how confident she sounded - much more than she felt. But if she knew one thing, it was that she had to try to reach Bull. To reach the man behind the Reaver.

To her own surprise, it was Vivienne who took a step towards Cassandra, encouraging her to follow her. She gave Amara a stern nod as they started to retreat further away. Cassandra looked more than unhappy, but she went regardless, and Amara let out the air she had been holding in a sigh of relief.  

“Bull?” she asked softly as she slowly stepped closer, trying to announce her presence rather than sneak up on him. There was a strange energy, barely visible, still hovering around his entire form. As she stepped closer, her breath got caught in her throat. His hands and arms were soaked in blood, so was his side where the demon attack had first hit him. And his face… It was still the face she knew, but something in his look, the way he held himself felt like she was looking at a person she had never met before.

“Bull?” she asked again, this time a bit louder.

“Leave!” he growled, a dangerous edge to his voice that had her falter in her steps for a moment. 

“You are hurt, Bull,” she stated carefully. “That wound looks pretty deep, really bad actually. Let me help.”

An almost violent shake of his head was the only answer, twisting slightly, turning, towards her. “Amara, go!”

“No, listen, I can hel…”

“Blood.” He turned around to her fully, his whole body moving like it was under a heavy strain of force, slowly, like pushing against invisible walls. “You smell of blood.” Bull stared at her with a look she couldn’t decipher. 

Amara couldn’t let up, couldn’t back away now. “I got a few scratches,” she admitted, “nothing bad though.” She tried to sound normal, hoping to ease any potential worry about her at this moment.

Too late, she understood that his words hadn’t been out of worry at all. She didn’t see it coming, didn’t see him move at all before his hands were around her, holding her upper arms in an iron-strong grip.

“Doesn’t matter,” he hissed. “I can still smell it on you…”

The look he gave her was full of hunger in the most destructive sense imaginable. Like he was ready to tear her apart, just like he had those demons. Amara stared at him, his face, his eye, looking for the person she knew, the person that she trusted to never harm her. He had to be there underneath all the carnage and rage in front of her. He  _ had  _ to.

An icy-cold feeling gripped her heart as she realized that, for the first time, she had valid reason to be afraid of him, and she started to struggle.

It was as useless as always, only this time, instead of an amused chuckle, she heard a dangerous growl, and instead of a playful squeeze, his hold on her turned into something painful as he pulled her closer. Amara felt her feet slip, getting dragged over the ground in her vain attempts at pushing back.

_ Stop him _ . She had to stop him. She had made him a promise, had begged him to believe her. She had convinced him he could never hurt her, could always somehow stay in control…

“Katoh!”

The single world seemed to float between them after bursting from her throat in a desperate shout.

She resisted the urge to flinch and look away, staring at Bull with wide eyes and all the courage she could muster. 

“Katoh, Bull. Stop. You hear me? I said the word, that means you have to!” Her voice was quiet, but she could see he heard every word as he blinked, looking almost confused for a second, before something in his eye changed.

In fact, his entire face changed, slowly losing the hard lines that had felt so unfamiliar to Amara. The crushing grip on her arms let up, gradually, until there was no more force behind it, and she could have twisted out of his hold completely. But there was no need to. Not anymore. The faint, flickering aura around him that had stood out to her so much before seemed to lose its glow. Then it slowly disappeared completely from view.

“Amara...” Bull’s voice still didn’t sound like she was used to, but it had lost some of its edge.

Carefully, she took another step towards him, slipping out of his now completely lax hold on her arms as she gently pressed her hand against his chest. She could feel his heart beating under her touch, still going fast. 

“It’s alright,” she murmured. “I’m here. I got you.” She leaned her head against his chest, the unbelievably strong tension that had run through her leaving her body, causing her shoulders to slump in exhaustion.

He sounded rough, shaky even. “I’m so sorry.” One of his hands curled around her shoulder, gently this time, holding her against him. A careful touch, as if she were made out of glass. She wasn’t. The opposite really, she had rarely felt as unbreakable as she did in this particular moment.

“Don’t apologize,” she shook her head gently. “You have nothing to apologize for!”

Muscles underneath her tensed for a brief moment. “Yes I do, I…”

“You saved my life just now,” she cut him off. “Twice. You saved all our lives.” Amara leaned back a bit so she could look up at him, her eyes finding his. 

“And I almost attacked you in the aftermath!” 

“But you didn’t!” 

Bull’s face was full of conflict, seemingly determined to put himself through more guilt as he spoke. “I was so close to… Amara, I could have seriously hurt you. And without a second thought.” His voice held something of a plea in it. For what? It felt like he was almost begging her to condemn him.

Amara wasn’t having any of it.

“Really? That why you took your time to warn me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Told me to leave? Sounds like second thoughts to me, really…” 

For a while Bull just looked at her. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what thoughts were running through his head, but she was fully prepared to disagree with all of them if she had to.

“You stayed.” His quiet, simple statement caught her by surprise.

“Of course I did! You weren’t going to hurt me.” 

“How can you be so certain of that?” 

The doubt in his words made her feel a pang of sorrow, but Amara’s voice held nothing but conviction in it when she answered, “Because you made me a promise!”

“What?” The look on his face was full of confusion. 

Amara kept looking at him as her hand grabbed for purchase, trying to find his next to her. When she did, she intertwined their fingers gently as she brought his hand up with her own. 

“Remember? You promised me to never hurt me, to never do anything to me against my will. You promised that I would always be safe around you.” Her voice was still soft but full of emotions, everything she felt for Bull lining her every word as she pulled his hand against her cheek, holding it against her until she felt his fingers close around her head. Not bothered at all by all the blood and gore between them, she leaned into his hand, her eyes never leaving his face. ”And you don’t lie to me! Not ever. I simply chose to believe you. To trust you.”

Bull seemed completely stunned by her words,unable to say any of his own, but the last bits of tension seemed to finally leave him. His face had turned soft again as he looked at her. Maybe the softest that Amara had him seen yet, so full of emotions it almost blew her away.

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

He didn’t answer her. Not directly. Instead he pulled her closer, his touch almost feathery light. “Kadan…” he breathed against her skin just before their lips met. She had learned enough Qunlat by now in her efforts to better understand him to feel something inside her burst from the warm feeling this one word evoked in her.  _ Where my heart lies…  _ She knew she would do everything to keep his inside of her own forever. 


End file.
